“Wait!” commanded Nan, good-naturedly patting her chum on the shoulder. “All is not yet lost! Up and at ’em, guards! Never say die!”
“I’d just set my heart on the biggest kind of a spread,” mourned Bess. “I wanted anything Cora, and Linda, and Mabel, and that set did, to look like a punctured jitney.”
“Oh, Bess! what language!”
“We—ell.”
“Now let me think,” said Nan, seriously.
“Think what?”
“Thoughts, of course, goosey!” laughed Nan. “Wait! First we must plan to have the spread in a sufficiently roomy place.”
“But it’s got to be in the Hall,” cried Bess.
“Or near it,” suggested Nan.
“What do you mean?”