"Yes, that I am," said Marjorie. "Half the county will be there. I shall wear my blue brocade, with collar of pearls."
"How fair thou wilt look! I have but my crimson taffeta turned and made over. But I have a new wimple."
"What is a wimple, Delight?"
"I don't know exactly, but they wore them once. We're not sisters you know, I'm just calling on you; I'm quite poor. Ah, Prissy, I would I could achieve a new gown for the ball. My lady Calvert will be there, and she is of the quality, forsooth."
"Aye, Abby, but thou art more beautiful in thy ragged garb, than she in her stiff satins."
"Sayest thou so? Thou dost but flatter. But among all my noble ancestors, the Adamses, there was never a woman aught but fair; or a man aught but brave!"
Delight said this in a high, stilted voice, and as she sat primly in the straight-backed old chair, knitting away at nothing, she presented a funny, attractive little picture.
Miss Adams, who had come in search of the girls, paused at the door, and heard Delight's words.
"You dear child!" she cried; "you dramatic small person! What are you two doing?"
"We fell to playing, Miss Adams," said Marjorie, "and we forgot to go downstairs."