Although unusual for a blonde, yellow was exceedingly becoming to
Patty, and she looked like an exquisite spring blossom in the soft,
sheath-like jonquil-coloured gown.
Her dainty satin slippers and silk stockings were of the same pale
yellow, as was also the filmy scarf, which she knew how to wear so
gracefully.
Her only ornament was a string of pearls, which had been her
mother's.
When she was all ready she went slowly down the winding staircase,
looking about her at the interesting house. A broad landing halfway
down showed an attractive window-seat, and Patty sat down there for
a moment.
There seemed to be no one in the hall below, and Patty concluded
that she was early after all, though she had feared she would be
late.
In a moment Kit came down and spied her.
"Hello, Princess!" he cried. "You're a yellow poppy to-night,--and a
gay little blossom, too."
"Not yellow poppyCHEEK!" cried Patty, rubbing her pink cheeks in
mock dismay.
"Well, no; only one who is colour-blind could call those pink cheeks
yellow. May I pose beside you, here, and make a beautiful tableau?"
He sat beside Patty on the window-seat, and they wondered why the
rest were so late.
"Prinking, I suppose," said Kit.
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