"
Then they went into the drawing-room and Patty was presented to her Aunt
Isabel.
Mrs. St. Clair was a fair, large woman, with golden hair, elaborately
frizzed, and kind blue eyes. She was fashionably dressed, and her silks
rustled and her bugles tinkled as she came forward to meet her visitor.
"I am charmed to see you, Patty, my dear," she said, kissing her
affectionately.
"And I am very glad to be here, Aunt Isabel," said Patty, and just then she
was interrupted by the violent entrance of what seemed to be a small pink
cyclone.
This was the eight year old Florelle, and without a doubt it was she who
was responsible for the shrieks Patty had heard.
The child wore a short, beruffled dress of pink silk, a huge pink sash, and
pink stockings and slippers. Her eyes were reddened with crying and her
cheeks were tear-stained, and she ran to Patty, screaming:
"I will! I _will_! She's _my_ cousin, and I'm going to see her _now_."
Then she threw her arms round Patty's waist, and smiled up into her face.
She was a very pretty little girl when she smiled, and Patty couldn't help
admiring her, though so far she had seemed like anything but a lovable
character.
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