the
school, how he was getting on, and what Mr. Long said about him now.

Marty's reports were very satisfactory. Danny was doing finely and Mr.
Long was delighted with his experiment. "He's as braggity about him as
if he'd made our Danny up out of his head," she said with a tinge of
ruffled family pride. "He better look out, though, 'fore he crows too
loud. Our Danny is mighty cute and maybe he's only fooling them
teachers. He ain't no lamb, you know," she ended with an earnestness
that made Patricia uncomfortable for her former favorite.

"He's never had half a chance to want to be good," defended Patricia
warmly. "I've always believed he was better than he behaved."

This seemed to be too deep for Marty, and she turned the subject by
producing a letter from the pocket of her neat blue dress.

"Mrs. Spicer sent this," she said, handing it to Patricia. "She gave me
a whole dollar, too, to spend just as I liked. My, but I felt grand
comin' down on that train with a whole dollar in my purse. I kept holt
on it all the way. I've read about pickpockets, and I ain't forgot
Danny's ways this soon, neither."

Patricia could not deny that Danny must have been a liberal education in
that sort of sleight of hand, but the letter saved her the painful
confession. While Elinor took Marty to her room and Judith explained the
uses of the various conveniences, push buttons and the like, Patricia
devoured the scribbled note.

"Oh, Norn, listen to this," she cried, following the others into
Elinor's room. "Mrs. Nat met a house-party who were going down to Mr.
Long's on the train last night and she was telling them about taking tea
at Artemis Lodge, and Miss Chapin, the senator's daughter Mr. Long is so
devoted to, told her she had a cousin there, who was studying with
Tancredi, and she hoped we'd meet and be friends. Her name--think of
it--her name is Rosamond Merton!"

Elinor looked pleased. "It doesn't really enlighten us much as to her,"
she said. "But it's rather nice to locate her even in that remote way."

Judith tossed her pale mane in quite her old superior manner. "How
childish you are, Elinor," she commented. "Cousins aren't much alike.
Miss Warner wasn't a scrap like Mr. Bingham. Patricia will have to find
out everything for herself--everything that Doris Leighton can't tell
her."

"Pooh, I shan't bother Doris now," said Patricia easily. "I'm in for a
while at least, and it would seem like spying to ask questions. I'