“Just give me a little time,” Laura entreated. “This is too unexpected. Let me have time to think up something to say.”
“Then you would be in trouble.” Nan started down the stairs. “Come on, brace up,” she whispered.
At that moment, Mrs. Mason heard them all and came to the stairway. “Come, girls,” she called. “Lunch is ready.”
Nan held fast to Laura’s arm and advanced into the room.
Dr. Prescott looked up at their entrance. “Why, Nan, how well you are looking.”
“And—Laura! Why, Laura Polk!”
Laura looked sheepish and blushed, but for once no words came forth. Dr. Prescott looked at her thoughtfully. Finally, the verdict came.
“Well—” she said slowly, but with a bright gleam in her eye. “I must admit that though I have always been opposed to artificial curls, you look very charming, Laura, and I don’t blame you a bit for doing it. Now, turn around so that I can see the back.”
Laura turned.
“Yes, it is indeed—charming, very becoming to you,” she repeated. “Don’t you like it, girls?” she nodded toward the others and in the general conversation that followed, Laura regained her composure.