BETTY GALE Seated at the head of her own dinner table that evening, Patty felt decidedly in her element.

Always of a hospitable nature, always efficient in household matters, she played her role of hostess with a sweet simplicity and a winning grace that charmed all her guests.
Farnsworth, opposite her at the big, round table, was a quiet, dignified and well-mannered host.

He had not Patty's native ability to entertain, but he was honestly anxious that his guests should be pleased and he did all in his power to help along.

Patty had coached him on many minor points, for Little Billee had been brought up in simple surroundings and unaccustomed to what he at first called Patty's frills and fal-lals.
But she had convinced him that dainty laces and shining silver were to be used for his daily fare and not merely as "company fixings," and being adaptable, the good-natured man obediently fell in with her wishes.
And now he was as deft and handy with his table appointments as Patty herself, and quite free from self-consciousness or awkwardness.
"You've made me all over, Patty," he would sometimes say; "now, I really like these dinky doo-daddles better than the 'old oaken bucket' effects on which I was brought up!" And then Patty would beg him to tell her more about his early days and his wild Western life in the years before she knew him.
It was her great regret that Bill had no parents, nor indeed any near relatives.

An only child, and early orphaned, he had lived a few years with a cousin and then had shifted for himself.