“And a mighty jolly little somebody she is. She must come with you to the studio. We must plan it all out before you leave camp.”
He turned his attention to steering the canoe, and in a short time they had reached the landing. The shoppers had not yet returned, and Mr. Wells decided to wait for Dr. Paul that he might not have to walk back to Place o’ Pines. Nan with a demure wisdom, not usually shown by so young a girl, led the way to the porch where her aunt and mother sat, so there was no more opportunity for a tête-à-tête that day.
After a while the shopping party came back, a merry crowd, each carrying a bag of peanuts, and laden with other purchases. They all made a great display of their dry-goods, pretending to squabble over the assumed preëminence of one purchase above another.
“I am sure you will say mine is the very prettiest,” contended Dr. Paul unrolling a gay piece of cretonne.
“It’s entirely too ornate,” Hartley spoke up. “Just look at those colors, Miss Nan. Now this subdued gray is in much better taste and is more suitable. I leave it to our artist friend, there.”
“It isn’t to be compared with my reliable old blue,” declared Ran, producing his length of linen. “I consider I have made the hit of the season. Just look at the quality, Nan.”
Nan laughingly examined first one then another, but was wise enough not to commit herself to any preference. “Did you think of getting flannel for the leaves?” she asked Mary Lee.
“Yes, and ribbon to tie up the things, elastic for the pockets, assorted needles, thread, black and white, and a spool of silk. Dr. Paul, show Nan your stores. He even has two celluloid thimbles; the one for himself is bright red.”
“So easy to find,” explained the doctor. “See how well it fits.” He stuck it on his finger.
“Ugh!” exclaimed Hartley, “don’t do that. It reminds me of my late accident.”