uctantly. "But I promised Bruce
to go to the Salimagundi show with him and he'll be waiting for me if I
don't fly."

Patricia went as far as the green entrance door with her and kissed her
warmly.

"I begin to feel like a pilgrim and a stranger," she laughed. "To be in
town and not be with you and Bruce seems too queer for words."

"You'll have splendid times as soon as you get acquainted," said Elinor
brightly. "I envy you the fun you're going to have among all these
attractive girls. Good-bye once again. Bring Doris over to supper with
you on Sunday if she is back by then. Be sure to take good care of
yourself and have a good time."

Patricia watched her till she turned the corner, and then she closed the
door and went slowly across the wide paved courtyard and up the little
private stair, smiling to herself.

As she closed the door of the sitting-room behind her, she could not
resist a prance of joy. "I'm here!" she told herself rapturously. "Oh,
how glorious it is to have really started in earnest!"

She practiced her breathing exercises and tried a few three-note vocal
exercises, and was delighted that her voice seemed clearer than it had
ever sounded to her.

"It must be because I am so happy," she told herself. "I wish I had a
lesson this afternoon. I hate to wait till the morning."

After she had sung as long as she dared, she practiced some
accompaniments till her fingers tired, and then she took up a magazine
and read a couple of stories, becoming so absorbed in the last one that
she hardly heard a clock below striking loudly, though some sense of its
strident tones made her start from her chair in dismay lest she should
have missed the tea-hour.

"How stupid of me--" she began, glancing at her plain little
wrist-watch. Her face fell as she looked unbelievingly at the hands
pointing to three o'clock.

"It must be run down," she said, frowning and holding the watch to her
ear. "No, it's going. It must be slow."

A glance at the big clock in the tower opposite her bedroom window
convinced her that her watch was to be taken seriously. There was nearly
an hour and a half before she might venture down into the tea-room and
make such acquaintances as she could without the aid of Doris Leighton
or Rosamond Merton.

"I wish I hadn't been so particular about that mending," she thought
ruefully. "It was a shameful waste of time to do it at the studio. I was
so particular to have everything done up to the