"Yes; and I perceive," said Patty, slowly and with mock gravity, "that
proportion means to have too many of one thing, when you'd better have a
lot of others."

"No, you're all wrong! That is a lack of proportion. Proportion is to have
exactly the right amount of each ingredient."

"Yes,--and what has all this to do with Aunt Isabel? Does she put too much
baking-powder in her cake, or has she nothing but tables in her house?"

"Those, my dear, were only figures of speech. But if you're going to make a
home for your old father next year, I want you to learn from observation
what are the principal ingredients to put into it, and then learn to adjust
the proportions."

"Papa, I believe I do know what you mean, but it's all out of proportion
when you call yourself 'my old father,' for you're not old a bit. You're a
beautiful young man, and I'm sure any one who didn't know us would take you
for my brother."

"Come, come, Puss, you mustn't be so flattering, or I'll keep you here, and
not let you go North at all; and I do believe you're just dying to go."

"I'd like it lots if you were going too. But to be away from you a whole
year is no fun at all. Can't I wait until next fall and we'll go together?"

"No, Patsie; your aunts are urging me to let you visit them and I think the
experiences will do you good. And beside, my plans for the next year are
very uncertain. I may have to go to Bermuda to see about my plantation
there,--and all things considered, I think you would be better off in the