CHAPTER IV.
VILLA ROSA "Here we are, chickens," said Uncle Robert, as the footman threw open the carriage door, "here's your new home, Patty, and you're very welcome to your Uncle Robert's house." It was almost dark and Patty could distinguish only the outlines of a magnificent house, so large that it seemed like a palace.
They went up massive stone steps between great stone lions, to a wonderful veranda bright with electric lights, and lights streamed from every window and from the wide front doors which flew open as they reached them.
But though all this beauty and elegance impressed Patty like a dream of Fairyland, she paid little heed to it, for she was so shocked and disturbed by the shrieks from within, which were now distinctly audible as those of a child.
"Goodness me!" exclaimed Ethelyn, just as Patty could stand it no longer and was about to ask what it meant, "what can be the matter with Florelle this time?
I hope you enjoy squealing, Patty, for you'll hear plenty of it in this house.

Don't mind it; little sister has a fearful temper, and we have to let her squeal it out." Patty was relieved to learn that it wasn't a case of intentional torture, and by this time she found herself in the great hall.
The grandeur of her surroundings fairly dazzled her, for Patty was an inexperienced little girl, and had lived simply, though very comfortably all her life.

And so she looked with amazement on the walls frescoed in brilliant colors, the enormous gilt-framed mirrors, the tall palms and marble statues, the rich draperies and stained-glass windows.
If she had been older and more experienced she would have known that it was _too_ gorgeous, the coloring too bright and garish, and the ornamentation over-showy.

But to her childish eyes it all seemed wonderfully fine.
"Oh, Uncle Robert," she cried, "is this your home?
How beautiful it is! I never saw such a lovely place in my life." This speech pleased Mr.St.Clair beyond measure, for he dearly loved to have his beautiful home appreciated, and he beamed, and rubbed his hands together with a general air of satisfaction.
"Yes, yes," he said, "it is fine,--_fine_! There isn't another such place for miles around." 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.