was an extremely pretty girl, he immediately glanced away again and
continued his watch for the black-eyed girl he expected. The room
was well filled by this time, and Patty took a seat near the front,
where sat a group of her intimate friends. They greeted her gaily,
and Kit, on the other side of the room, paid no attention to them.

The programme began with a duet by Kit on his violin, and his Cousin
Marie at the piano.

The man was really a virtuoso, and his beautiful playing held the
audience spellbound. Patty watched him, enthralled with his music,
and admiring, too, his generally worth-while appearance.

"He does look awfully jolly," she thought, to herself, "and it's
plain to be seen he has brains. I wonder if he will be terribly
disappointed in me, after all. I've a notion to run away."

For the first time in her life Patty felt shy about singing. Usually
she had no trace of self-consciousness, but to-night she experienced
a feeling of embarrassment she had never known before. She realized
this, and scolded herself roundly for it. "You idiot!" she observed,
mentally, to her own soul; "if you want to make a good impression,
you'd better stop feeling like a simpleton. Now brace up, and do the
best you can, and behave yourself!"

Miss Curtiss sang before Patty did. She was a sweet-faced young
woman, with a beautiful and well-trained contralto voice. Patty cast
a furtive glance at Kit Cameron, and found that he was looking
intently at the singer. She knew perfectly well he was wondering
whether this might be the girl of the telephone conversations, and