d to find herself confronted by a
stranger. He was a thick-set, stockily-built man, several years older
than most of Patty's friends. He had black hair and eyes and a short
black moustache and a round, heavy type of face. His black eyes were
of the audacious sort, and he flashed a glance of admiration at Patty.
Before she could speak, or even offer her hand, Mona sprang forward,
saying, "Patty, this is my friend Mr. Lansing. I took the liberty of
inviting him to your dance. Mrs. Fairfield, may I present Mr.
Lansing?"

Patty was angry. This, of course, must be the man of whom Mr.
Galbraith had spoken, and, aside from the fact that he seemed
undesirable, Patty felt that Mona had no right to invite him without
asking permission from her hostess.

But Nan knew nothing of all this, and she cordially greeted the
stranger because he was a friend of Mona's. Patty recovered her
equilibrium sufficiently to say, "How do you do, Mr. Lansing?" in a
non-committal sort of way, but she couldn't refrain from giving Mona a
side glance of reproof, to which, however, that young woman paid no
attention.

In another moment Mona had drifted away, and had taken Mr. Lansing
with her. Patty turned to speak to Nan about him, but just then some
more guests arrived; and then the dancing began, and Patty had no
further opportunity.

As Patty had promised, she gave the first dance to Philip Van Reypen;
and after that she was fairly besieged by would-be partners. The fact
that she was hostess at her own coming-out ball, the fact that she
danced beautifully, and the fact that she was so pretty and charming,
all combined to make her, as was not unusual, the most popular girl
present.

"Anything left for me?" asked Roger, gaily, as he threaded the crowds
at Patty's side.

"I saved one for you," said Patty, smiling at him; "for I hoped you'd
ask me, sooner or later."

Roger gratefully accepted the dance Patty had saved for him, and soon
after he came to claim her for it.

"I say, Patty," he began when they were whirling about the floor, "who
is that stuff Mona has trailing after her?"

"Moderate your language, Roger," said Patty, smiling up at him, and
noticing that his expression was very wrathy indeed.

"He doesn't deserve moderate language! He's a bounder, if I ever saw
one! What's he doing here?"

"He seems to be dancing," said Patty, demurely, "and he doesn't dance
half badly, either."

"Oh, stop your fooling, Patty; I'm not in the