appointments, they had combined their efforts on the library and the
result was a room which they all loved far better than the more formal
drawing-room.

The fall was coming early that year, which gave an excuse for the fire
in the big fireplace. This fire was made of that peculiar kind of
driftwood whose flames show marvellous rainbow tints. Patty never tired
of watching the strange-coloured blaze, and delighted in throwing on
more chips and splinters from time to time.

"I can't see what makes your father so late," said Nan, as she wandered
about the room, now adjusting some flowers in a vase, and now stopping
to look out at the front window; "he's always here by this time, or
earlier."

"Something must have detained him," said Patty, rather absently, as she
poked at a log with the tongs.

"Patty, you're a true Sherlock Holmes! Your father is late, and you
immediately deduce that something has detained him! Truly, you have a
wonderful intellect!"

"I don't wonder it seems so to you," said saucy Patty, smiling at her
pretty stepmother; "people are always impressed by traits they don't
possess themselves."

"But really I'm getting worried. If Fred doesn't come pretty soon I
shall telephone to the office."

"Do; I like to see you enacting the role of anxious young wife. It suits