expect anything at all, than to set your heart on a
thing and then not get it. In your case, it won't matter. Our house is
yours, and there's plenty and to spare."

"Thank you," said Uncle John, his face grave but his eyes merry.

"Oh, Major!" cried Patsy, suddenly. "There's Danny Reeves's
restaurant. Let's get off and have our dinner now; I'm as hungry as a
bear."

So they stopped the car and descended, lugging all the parcels into
the little restaurant, where they were piled into a chair while the
proprietor and the waiters all gathered around Patsy to welcome her
home.

My, how her eyes sparkled! She fairly danced for joy, and ordered the
dinner with reckless disregard of the bill.

"Ah, but it's good to be back," said the little Bohemian, gleefully.
"The big house at Elmhurst was grand and stately, Major, but there
wasn't an ounce of love in the cupboard."

"Wasn't I there. Patsy?" asked Uncle John, reproachfully.

"True, but now you're here; and our love, Uncle, has nothing to do
with Elmhurst. I'll bet a penny you liked it as little as I did."

"You'd win," admitted the little man.

"And now," said the girl to the smiling waiter, "a bottle of red
California wine for Uncle John and the Major, and two real cigars.
We'll be merry tonight if it bankrupts the Doyle family entirely."

But, after a merry meal and a good one, there was no bill at all when
it was called for.

Danny Reeves himself came instead, and made a nice little speech,
saying that Patsy had always brought good luck to the place, and this
dinner was his treat to welcome her home.

So the Major thanked him with gracious dignity and Patsy kissed Danny
on his right cheek, and then they went away happy and content to find
the little rooms up the second flight of the old tenement.

"It's no palace," said Patsy, entering to throw down the bundles as
soon as the Major unlocked the door, "but there's a cricket in the
hearth, and it's your home, Uncle John, as well as ours."

Uncle John looked around curiously. The place was so plain after the
comparative luxury of Elmhurst, and especially of the rose chamber
Patsy had occupied, that the old man could not fail to marvel at the
girl's ecstatic joy to find herself in the old tenement again. There
was one good sized living-room, with an ancient rag-carpet partially
covering the floor, a sheet-iron stove, a sofa, a table and three or
four old-fashioned chairs that had probably come from a second-ha