gh the great
parlours with their wonderful decorations of banked roses and
garland-draped ceilings.

Dinner was early that night, as the ceremony was to be performed at eight
o'clock, and after dinner Patty flew to her room to don her own beautiful
new gown.

This dress delighted Patty's beauty-loving heart. It was a white tulle
sprinkled with silver, and its soft, dainty glitter seemed to Patty like
moonlight on the snow. Her hair was done low on her neck, in a most
becoming fashion, and her only ornament was a necklace of pearls which
had belonged to her mother, and which her father had given her that very
day. The first Mrs. Fairfield had died when Patty was a mere baby, so of
course she had no recollection of her, but she had always idealised the
personality of her mother, and she took the beautiful pearls from her
father with almost a feeling of reverence as she touched them.

"I'm so glad it's Nan you're going to marry, Papa," she said. "I wouldn't
like it as well if it were somebody who would really try to be a
stepmother to me, but dear old Nan is more like a sister, and I'm so glad
she's ours."

"I'm glad you're pleased, Patty, dear, and I only hope Nan will never
regret marrying a man so much older than herself."

"You're not old, Papa Fairfield," cried Patty indignantly; "I won't have
you say such a thing! Why, you're not forty yet, and Nan is twenty-four.
Why, that's hardly any difference at all."

"So Nan says," said Mr. Fairfield, smiling, "so I dare say my
arithmetic's at fault."

"Of course it is," said Patty, "and you don't look a bit old either. Why,
you look as young as Mr. Hepworth, and he looks nearly as young as
Kenneth, and Kenneth's only two years older than I am."

"That sounds a little complicated, Patty, but I'm sure you mean it as a
compliment, so I'll take it as such."

A little before eight o'clock, Patty, in her shimmering gown, went
dancing downstairs.

The rooms were already crowded with guests, and the first familiar face
Patty saw was that of Mr. Hepworth, who came toward her with a glad smile
of greeting.

"How grown-up we are looking to-night," he said. "I shall have to paint
your portrait all over again, and you must wear that gown, and we will
call it, 'A Moonlight Sonata,' and send it to the exhibition."

"That will be lovely!" exclaimed Patty; "but can you paint silver?"

"Well, I could try to get a silvery effect, at least."

"That wouldn't do; it must be the r