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It was the third week in September when the Fairfields left the seashore and returnedto their Vernondale home."Now, my child," said Mr. Fairfield, as they sat on the veranda after dinner, "I will unfoldto you my plans for the coming winter, and you may accept, or reject, or amend them asyou please.""Proceed," said Patty, settling herself comfortably in her wicker chair; "I feel in anamiable mood this evening, and will probably agree to anything you may suggest.""I've been thinking for some time," went on her father, "that I don't want to spend thecoming winter in Vernondale. I would much rather be in New York.""Reason number one-Nan," said Patty, checking it off on her forefinger and smiling ather father."Yes," he responded, with an answering smile, "she is reason number one, but there areothers."To readers who are unfamiliar with Patty's earlier history we may say right here thather mother had died when Patty was but three years old. At present she lived with herfather in their little home in Vernondale, an establishment of which Patty greatly pridedherself on her management.