Mr. Danforth smiled, and later on this ingenuous avowal came back to him.
It did seem very lonely indeed without Lisa, and when in due time the China crêpe arrived, Persis shed tears over it, even while she was admiring the soft clinging folds of the beautiful stuff.
Basil was charmed with the idea of helping Annis and Persis to design their graceful costumes. Lisa had chosen a pale pink for Persis, and her slender, girlish figure, with her round white arms and delicate throat, her dusky hair bound with a silver fillet, never showed to better advantage than when, clad in the costume, she stood for criticism. Annis, in pale green, was like a dainty bit of decoration for spring.
“I think it is ever so much nicer for some of us to dress in colors,” said Persis. “We must thank you for the suggestion, Basil. You always see the artistic side of things. What’s the matter?” for Basil was gazing at her intently. “Is there anything wrong?” And Persis looked down uneasily.
“No; on the contrary, you never looked so stunning. You’re a perfect picture, Persis.”
“Oh, am I?” said Persis, delightedly. “Thank you, Basil. I am so glad I look nice.”
There was such unaffected surprise in her tone that little Annis smiled.
“Persis, you’ve the dearest way of being unconscious,” she said. “I don’t believe you ever admire yourself.”
Persis looked around at her in wonder. “Of course I don’t, when I have Lisa and Mellicent to admire. They are the beauties.”
Annis gave a merry look to Basil, who was smiling quietly. He shook his head at her, and Persis, perfectly unaware that none of Miss Adams’s graduating class would look more attractive than she, began to admire Annis and to speak of the honors about to be given.