Fan came down in her new pique dress, her broad sun hat trimmed with light blue, and her white parasol lined with the same tint. She was pretty and stylish enough for any lady’s daughter. Kate was in a silvery, much be-ruffled poplin, and a jaunty round hat that scarcely shaded her eyes.
Louis was considerably improved that day. He walked into the next room, arranged some flowers that I brought him, and was quite cheerful. He wanted very much to go down stairs, but mamma thought he had better not, so he acquiesced pleasantly.
“If you are no worse to-morrow you may try it,” she promised.
Fan had a royal time, though she declared she was half tired to death.
Up in our room she told me all the particulars.
“Everything was just lovely! Servants to do the work, make fires and coffee, and spread tables, while we sat, or walked in the shade, or rambled through the woods. We had the violins and quadrilles and gallops and laughing, and may be a little flirting. It was absolutely funny to see young Ogden.”
“Oh, Fan, I hope you didn’t—”
“My dear little grandmother, I am afraid I did, just the least bit. You see Kate and Allie West tried so hard for Mr. Ogden, and he kept by my side so easily. I had only to look. And Dick Fairlie was like a bear. Something has vexed him.”
“I thought he was cross this morning. But, oh, Fan, I wouldn’t have you do any thing to—to displease the Churchills.”
“And I wouldn’t, honestly Rose. This is nothing beyond summer pastime. Why can’t we all be bright and nice and social? It is a humbug to think of everybody’s falling in love. I don’t believe young people would think of it, only some one is afraid and speaks before the time, making a tangle of it all. I do not expect any one to fall in love with me—at present.”