"No, not Thackeray. I mean, just the idea of the gay atmosphere,—the light, giddy side of life. For instance, let's have a Vanity booth and sell all sorts of aids to beauty—"
"Powder and paint!" exclaimed Azalea, in surprise.
"Well, I meant more like lacy caps and stunning négligées. And yes, of course, vanity cases and powder-puff bags and mirrors and perfumes,—oh, all sorts of foolishnesses that are pretty."
"I know," said Elise, nodding her head. "And we'll have an artificial flower booth,—that's right in line. And people love to buy 'em,—I do."
"And laces," said Patty; "and embroidered boudoir pillows, and oh,—and baby things! Why Fleurette's nursery wardrobe looks like a Vanity Fair itself!"
"Hold on," cried Betty, laughing, "don't go too far. Not everybody is interested in baby togs!"
"I s'pose not," said Patty, smiling. "All right, cut out the Baby booth."
"No," spoke up Azalea, "let's have it. Everybody knows a baby to give presents to. And the little caps and things are so pretty."
"Good for you, Zaly," cried Patty; "we'll have it, and you and I will run it, and Fleurette shall be the presiding genius, and sit enthroned among the fairy wares! Oh, it will be lovely!"
"Yes, do have it," agreed Betty. "It will be a screaming success with
Fleurette in it!"