General approbation of this plan is expressed, and Mr. Merivale is about to escape, muttering something about "Mother fidgeting herself into fiddle-strings," when he is once more seized upon, and Molly, who is generally to the fore where speaking is concerned, asks in a stage-whisper, "What about the music for the dancing, father?"
"Why, bless my soul, there's plenty of time for that, surely! Now, let me see, what evening is fixed?—the 27th, isn't it? Very well, then, this is only the 13th; so you have a clear fortnight before you."
"Yes, father, I know," says persevering Molly; "but you see, dear old Dad, we want to feel that it is all settled, and nothing left on our minds, you know!"
"O, do you, now?" says Mr. Merivale, pinching his daughter's rosy cheek. "Well, I wish I could get everything in my business settled off so satisfactorily, and nothing left on my mind. Well, well, we will see; I will go and look up someone to play in a few days—don't you fuss about it, I won't forget. Now, really, children, I must go down. Let me go, there's good girls."
"And make mother promise to give us a real good supper, not sandwiches and sweets only!" they scream after him down the passage.
"Yes, yes, I'll see to it all," calls back the victimized parent, only too thankful to escape at any price, and never stopping to consider what extra responsibilities he is taking upon himself.
Having settled down quietly once more, there is an animated consultation on the important subject of the dresses, and the respective prices of chintz, velveteen, silk, lace, &c. &c., are discussed with interest.
"It is so difficult to tell what sum we really shall want," says Doris, leaning her chin on her hand and staring absently into the fire. "However, I propose that you and I, Honor, go to Miss Renny to-morrow morning and just consult her as to quantities and so on, and then we could arrange about her coming to work at the same time."
"Yes, I think that will be the best plan. Good gracious, Doris! look at the clock! What time is dinner to-night?"
"Eight," replied Doris, "and mother said I was to be in the drawing-room not a moment later than half-past seven;" and starting up, the girls dart out of the room and up the stairs like a lightning flash into Doris's room, where, on the bed, is carefully arranged the toilette she is to wear on this the occasion of her first dinner-party.