Sure enough, the object of interest this time was a distant steamer,
which was clearly visible on the horizon. It was sharply outlined
against the blue sky, and the sunlight gave it its true value of colour,
while the dark smoke that poured from its smokestack floated back
horizontally like a broad ribbon. But owing to the distance there was no
effect of motion, and even the smoke as well as the vessel seemed to be
stationary.

"That isn't a real steamer," said Patty whimsically; "it's a chromo-
lithograph. I've often seen them in the offices of steamship companies.
This one isn't framed, as they usually are, but it's only a chromo all
the same. There's no mistaking its bright colouring and that badly
painted smoke."

Young Chester laughed. "You Americans are so clever," he said. "Now an
English girl would never have known that that was only a painted
steamer. But as you say, you can tell by the smoke. That's pretty badly
done."

Patty took a decided liking to this jesting Englishman, and thought him
much more entertaining than the melancholy French musician.

She discovered that very evening that Mr. Chester possessed a fine
voice, and when after dinner a dozen or more young people gathered round
the chairs of the Farrington party, they all sang songs until Mrs.
Farrington declared she never wanted to attend a more delightful
concert.

Mr. Pauvret brought his violin, and the Van Ness boys produced a banjo