Oh, here you are," cried Alla, who was waiting to help her dress; "I
was just going to send for you. Now, off with your frock."

Some fifteen or twenty minutes later, the audience sat in breathless
anticipation of Patty's dance.

Howard Grantham was a great artist, and never before had he been known
to devise a dance for any one. But he had recognised Patty's skill in
the art, and had requested that he be allowed to design a picture dance
for her. The result was to be a surprise to all present, except the
Blaneys, for rehearsals had been jealously kept secret.

The lights in the room were low, and the stage, which was a small grove
of evergreen trees, was dark. Then, through the trees, appeared slowly
a faint, pink light, as of breaking dawn. Some unseen violins breathed
almost inaudible strains of Spring-song music.

Two trees at the back were slowly drawn apart as two small, white hands
appeared among their branches. In the opening showed Patty's lovely
face, eyes upturned, scarlet lips parted in a smile that was a joyous
expression of youth and gladness. Still further she drew apart the
lissome trees, and stepped through, a vision of spring itself. Clouds
of chiffon swirled about her, softest dawn-rose in colour, changing of
tints of heliotrope and primrose, as she swayed in graceful, pliant
rhythm. Her slim white arms waved slowly, as the hidden melodies came
faintly from the depth of the grove. Her pretty bare feet shone
whitely among the soft pine needles and the steps of her dance were the
very essence of poetry itself.

The audience watched in silence, spellbound by the fair sight. Slowly
she moved and swayed; then, as the music quickened, her steps grew more
animated, her smile more bright, the lights were stronger, and the
dance ended in a whirl of graceful pirouette and tossing, fluttering
draperies. With no pause or intermission, Patty was changed to an
impersonation of summer. It was done by the lights. Her robe was
really of white chiffon, and as pink lights had made it appear in rosy
tints, so now a deep yellow light gave the effect of sultry sunlight.

The music, and likewise the rhythm of the dance, were soft and
languorous as a July noon. Limply hung the draperies, slowly waved the
graceful arms, and at the end, Patty sank slowly, gently, down on a
mound beneath the trees, and, her head pillowed on her arm, closed her
eyes, while the violin notes faded to silence.

Knowing better