"
"I know it, Mrs. Homer," and Patty looked so sweetly penitent that
her hostess could but smile at her. "But, truly, I just stepped out
a single second to get a tiny breath of air. The room IS warm, isn't
it? May I stay here by you a few moments?"
"Yes, indeed," and Mrs. Homer drew the girl down beside her on the
sofa. "You're not robust, my child, and you mustn't run foolish
risks."
"You're quite right, and I won't do it again. But on a night not
quite so cold, that balcony, flooded with moonlight, must be a
romantic spot."
"It is, indeed," said Mrs. Homer, smiling. "My young people think
so; and I hope you will have many opportunities in the future to see
it for yourself."
"Your young people? Have you other children besides Marie?"
"Yes; I have a daughter who is away at boarding-school. And, also, I
have a nephew, whose home is in this same building."
"Is he here to-night?"
"No; Kit hates dances. Of course, that's because he doesn't dance
himself. He's a musician."
"Kit? What a funny name."
"It's Christopher, really, Christopher Cameron; but he's such a
happy-go-lucky sort of chap, we naturally call him Kit."
"I think I should like him," said Patty. "Would he like me?"
"No," said Mrs.
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