“And pumpkin-pies,—”
“And nuts and gingerbread;—it will be lovely!”
“Well, I like it,” said Tilly, a little hesitatingly, “but I don’t know about a dress. Aunt won’t help me,—I’m sure;—and I simply can’t make one myself.”
“I’ll help you,” said Betty, “and I’m sure Mother’ll make you one, if you can’t get one any other way. But perhaps you could borrow one. The old Adams ladies have lots of old-fashioned clothes.”
“Yes, maybe I could,” and Tilly’s eyes brightened at this way out of her difficulty. “And I can make brown bread for the feast. That’s old-fashioned.”
“Oh, I’ll provide all the supper,” said Betty, “because it’s my party. And afterward, we’ll have old-fashioned dances, with a fiddler to call out the figures.”
“I don’t believe the Puritans danced,” said Tilly.
Betty’s face fell. “Well, I don’t care to keep it too Puritanic,” she said. “We’ll just have it as old-fashioned as we like, and have the rest any way we want it.”
“Yes, that’s the best,” said May.
“But your table must look old-fashioned,—with candles, you know; Aunt’ll lend you her old brass candlesticks if you want them.”