Therefore when all the others started off to the country store, Nan declined to go. She had begged her mother not to tell of the engagement she had made, partly because she did not want to be teased and partly because it was too sweet a secret to share with any one but her mother. Mrs. Corner guessed the former reason, but did not suspect the latter.
“Aren’t you going with us?” asked Dr. Paul who appeared early in the afternoon. “I thought we were all going to buy out the dry-goods department of Mr. Davis’s store.”
“No, I am not going.” Nan shook her head. “I have something else to do, but I will delegate you to buy the materials for my housewife. In compensation thereof I will make you one.”
“Now, what ought I to say? That the compensation is ample? If I do that it will mean I prefer the housewife to your society; on the other hand, I ought to prove my appreciation of such a souvenir as a piece of your handiwork.”
“Oh, let the housewife have the compliment,” returned Nan laughing. “I can do without it.” She watched him go off to join the others and then went to the empty living-room to pass away the time, till four o’clock, by writing a letter to Charlotte Loring. She looked frequently at the clock and the letter did not turn out to be a very long or a very interesting one, being disjointed and rather vague, yet Nan concluded to send it. Then she went to her tent to get ready. She was not given to prinking, being less afflicted with vanity than Mary Lee, who was generally considered the beauty of the family, yet she took a long time to decide upon her dress. Should she go in the blue flannel skirt and blouse she generally wore, or should she wear a skirt and white jumper as she had at the picnic? At first she thought she would wear the latter because Mr. Wells had chosen to paint her in this costume, but finally she decided that this being a special occasion, she would wear a white linen, only a simple frock, to be sure, with low sailor collar. The only color she added was a soft yellow silk tie which Jo had once told her was very becoming. She did her hair carefully, braiding the thick plaits smoothly and tying them with the black ribbon she always wore. Let big red or blue bows be for such youngsters as Jack or Jean. For a moment she thought of doing her hair up higher, but she had never worn it so and it would be marked. So at last she was ready and started out, being careful that the canoe was very clean that she might not soil her dress. She did not want to be late, but she hoped she was not too much ahead of time.
Her watch pointed to four when she landed her canoe at the little point which was but a very short distance above the camp. No other canoe was there, so she was first after all. Well, at all events, she had the virtue of promptness which the other had not.
Yet she had not long to wait for in a few minutes she saw a canoe coming. So Elsa had watched Lohengrin approach in the swan boat. Her heart thrilled at sight of the figure, like Lohengrin in white, standing there paddling the canoe. It was almost as if she were at the opera watching the scene, her imagination supplying the music. Very soon her Lohengrin was within hailing distance and saw her there, a white figure against the lush green.
“Ah, there you are,” he cried. “I’m afraid I am a trifle late. I was hunting up some violin strings and couldn’t remember where I had put the things, but I have them all right.” He came ashore and held out his hand. “Isn’t this jolly?” he said. “Such an afternoon, enough to inspire any one. Do you happen to sing, by the way?”
“I have only a feeble pipe,” replied Nan smiling.
“Your voice and laugh sound as if you would sing a good contralto. Perhaps your pipe, as you call it, needs only developing. Shall we try it?”