and was quite willing to promise not to quiz a messenger boy. And
so, he could do nothing but wait impatiently for the promised
photograph.

Meanwhile Miss Patricia Fairfield was looking over her portrait
collection to see what ones to send. She had a box full of old
photographs, but she wanted to select just the right ones.

But at last she tumbled them all on the table in a heap, and wisely
decided to leave the decision till morning.

And so it happened, that when Nan came to Patty's room next morning,
as she often did, she found that coquettish damsel, sitting up in
bed, wrapped in a blue silk nightingale, and with a flower-decked
lace cap somewhat askew on her tumbled curls.

Her breakfast tray sat untouched on its little stand, while on the
counterpane were spread out some twoscore portraits of more or less
beautiful maidens.

"What ARE you doing?" said Nan; "playing photograph solitaire?"

"I'm playing a game of photographs," said Patty, raising a pair of
solemn blue eyes to Nan, "but it isn't exactly solitaire."

"You needn't tell ME! You're cutting up some trick with that new man
of yours." And Nan deliberately brushed away some pictures, and sat
down on the side of the bed.

"You're a wizard!" and Patty gazed at her stepmother. "You could