ts with a truthful account of her
day.

"I'm 'foiled again'!" she said, laughing. "But the whole performance was
so funny I must tell you about it."

"Couldn't you have coaxed fifteen dollars a week out of her?" asked Mr.
Fairfield, after Patty had told how Madame Villard's price had gradually
increased.

"Oh, father, I was so afraid she _would_ say fifteen! Then I should have
felt that I ought to go to her for a week; for I may not get another such
chance. But I couldn't live in that place a week, I _know_ I couldn't!"

"Why?" asked Nan, curiously.

"I don't know exactly why," returned Patty, thoughtfully. "But it's
mostly because it's all so artificial and untrue. Miss O'Flynn talks as
if she were a superior being; Madame Villard talks as if she were a Royal
personage. They talk about their customers and each other in a sort of
make-believe grandiose way, that is as sickening as it is absurd. I don't
know how to express it, but I'd rather work in a place where everybody is
real, and claims only such honour and glory as absolutely belong to them.
I hate pretence!"

"Good little Patty!" said her father, heartily; "I'm glad you do. Oh, I
tell you, my girl, you'll learn some valuable lessons, even if you don't
achieve your fifteen dollars."

"But I shall do that, too, father. You needn't think I'm conquered yet.
Pooh! What's three failures to a determined nature like mine?"

"What, indeed!" laughed Mr. Fairfield. "Go ahead, my plucky little
heroine; you'll strike it right yet."

"I'm sure I shall," declared Patty, with such a self-satisfied air of
complacency that both her hearers laughed.

CHAPTER XIII

THE THURSDAY CLUB

As Patty was temporarily out of an "occupation," she went skating the
next day with the Farringtons and Kenneth. Indeed, the four were so often
together that they began to call themselves the Quartette.

After a jolly skate, which made their cheeks rosy, they all went back to
Patty's, as they usually did after skating.

"I think you might come to my house, sometimes," said Elise.

"Oh, I have to go to Patty's to look after the goldfish," said Kenneth.
"I thought Darby swam lame, the last time I saw him. Does he, Patty?"

"No, not now. But Juliet has a cold, and I'm afraid of rheumatism setting
in."

"No," said Kenneth; "she's too young for rheumatism. But she may have
'housemaid's knee.' You must be very careful about draughts."

The goldfish were a never-failing source of