But that evening when they had gathered to start on the straw ride she avoided her old friend, insisting upon Daniella’s sitting by her on one side; the other was already occupied by Marcus Wells, and she was the merriest of the merry, so full of droll sayings, so originally witty and bright that Marcus wondered. “You are a creature of surprises,” he whispered as the little company trooped up the street in search of the “lickin’ good” ice-cream.
“Please to tell me why?” said Nan.
“You are usually so very quiet, such a dream-maiden, but to-night you are like a star. There is no moonlight in your make-up, it is all star beams and twinkling lights, all scintillation and sparkle. I thought I knew you, but——”
“You see you didn’t,” returned Nan lightly as they reached the door of the rustic ice-cream room, or parlor, as it was called.
Many colored and ornately perforated papers hung from the ceiling; on the little tables were stiff bunches of paper flowers; on the floor oilcloth. Behind the counter an apple-cheeked woman stood aghast at the sudden descent of so many customers. “We’ve got vanil’, lemon and strawberry,” she said, “only I don’t know as there’s enough to go round of any but the vanil’.”
By dint of wise selecting it was discovered that there would be enough to go around, and after buying mint-sticks and lozenges, peanuts and pop-corn, the jolly crowd again mounted to their nest of straw and the wagon bumped back to camp under a moonlit sky.
“Let’s make the welkin ring,” proposed Jo.
“What is a welkin?” asked Jean.
“It is a distant cousin to catkin,” Jo told her.
“Then how can it ring?”