man. In fact, you'd better praise Mr. Lansing. That
would be the best way to make her lose interest in him."

"Patty Fairfield! I'm ashamed of you. I always knew you were a flirt,
but anything like that would be downright deception."

"Oh, fiddle-de-dee! All's fair in love and war. You're too
matter-of-fact, Roger,--too staid and practical. Brace up and tease
Mona. Get her guessing--and the game will be all in your own hands."

"How do you know these things, Patty? You're too young for such
worldly wisdom."

"Oh, women are born with a spirit of contrariness. And, anyway, it's
human nature. Now, you jolly Mona up, and stop looking as if you'd
lost your last friend,--and then see how the cat jumps. Why, what is
Hal Ferris doing?"

The Lord of Misrule had jumped up on a table, and was flourishing his
sceptre, and announcing that he would now issue a few decrees, and
they must immediately be obeyed.

He said the audience wished to see some well-acted plays, and he would
ask some of the guests present to favour them.

"As these dramas are necessarily impromptu," he said, "you will please
come forward and do your parts as soon as your names are called. Any
delay, hesitation, or tardiness will be punished to the full extent of
the Law of Misrule. The first play, ladies and gentlemen, will be a
realistic representation of the great tragedy of 'Jack and Jill.' It
will be acted by Mr. Van Reypen and Miss Fairfield. Ready! Time!"

Philip and Patty went forward at once, for though they had had no
intimation of this act, they were quite ready to take their part in
the merriment.

Philip caught up one of the glass baskets which he had brought up for
gifts, and declared that represented their pail.

"It isn't mine!" cried Daisy. "I don't want mine smashed!"

"No matter what happens," returned Philip, "we must be realistic."

"Here, take this instead," said Jim Kenerley, offering an antique
copper bucket, which was one of his pet pieces.

"All right, it _is_ better. Now, the play begins. This is an
illustrated ballad, you know. Will somebody with a sweet voice kindly
recite the words?"

"I will," volunteered Hal, himself. "My voice is as sweet as taffy."

He began intoning the nursery rhyme, and Patty and Philip strolled
through the hall, swinging the bucket between them, and acting like
two country children going for water. They climbed the stairs,
laboriously, as if clambering up a steep hill, and as they went up,