was not willing to give up all her time to her. The old ma'amselle
greatly delighted to carry Patty off to her stateroom, there to talk to
her or listen to her read aloud. Except for her maid, ma'amselle was
alone, and Patty felt sorry for her and was glad to cheer her up. Not
that she needed cheering exactly, for she was of a merry and volatile
disposition, except when she gave way to exhibitions of temper, which
were not infrequent.

One morning she called Patty to her room, and surprised the girl by
giving her a present of a handsome and valuable old necklace. It was of
curiously wrought gold, and though Patty admired it extremely, she
hesitated about accepting such a gift from a comparative stranger."

"But yes," said ma'amselle, "it is for you. I wish to give it to you. I
have taken such a fancy to you, you could scarce believe. And I adore to
decorate you thus." She clasped the necklace about Patty's throat, with
an air that plainly said she would be much offended if the gift were
refused. So Patty decided to keep it, at least until she could get an
opportunity to ask Mrs. Farrington's advice on the subject.

When she did ask her, Mrs. Farrington told her to keep it by all means.
She said she had no doubt the old ma'amselle enjoyed making the gift far
more than Patty was pleased to receive it, so Patty kept the trinket,
which was really a very fine specimen of the goldsmith's art.

"And, my dear," the old lady went on, the day that she gave Patty the
necklace, "you must and shall come to visit me in my chateau. My home is
the most beautifull--an old chateau at St. Germain, not far from Paris,
and you can come, but often, and stay with me for the long time."