"Of course you are," said Marie; "you're behaving beautifully. And
you look like an angel, and you sang like a lark, and if you're
Kit's Girl, I'm glad of it. Now come on, everybody's going to
supper."

"You come along with me," said Philip Van Reypen, as he took Patty
by the arm.

"Why?" And Patty looked a little defiant at this command.

"Because I want you to. And I want you to stop making up to that
Cameron man."

"I'm not, Philip; he's making up to me."

"Well, he'd better stop it! What was he doing on his knees before
you in the library?"

"I don't remember," said Patty, innocently. "Oh, yes, he was telling
me my cheeks were red, or some foolishness like that."

"And your eyes were blue, I suppose, and your hair was yellow!
Didn't you know all those things before?"

"Why, Philip, how cross you are! Yes, I've known those things for
nineteen years. It's no surprise to me."

"Patty, I'd like to shake you! Do you know what you are? You're just
a little, vain, silly, babbling coquette!"