"I didn't ask you," returned Nan, "but since you raise the question, I'll just remark, in passing, that it's part of the performance, and it's no more ridiculous than lots of the other flummery that goes along with a this year's model wedding. I didn't have any showers,—but that was then."
"Right you are, Lady Gay, and as Mona most especially desired this mark of esteem from her friends, I'm glad she's going to have it."
"But I thought showers were usually surprises,—I didn't know the bride-elect requested one, or even knew of it beforehand."
"Your think is correct. It's most unusual, but Mona is unusual, and any surprise in connection with her wedding would be impossible. She knows it all, and the arrangements are all under her direct supervision. It's going to be a pretty stunning affair, Nansome."
"So I gather from what I hear. While you were at Lakewood, I didn't get much of the news about it, but since your return I've heard of nothing else."
"And you won't until after the fifteenth. I declare, Nan, I've had no time for a real heart to heart talk with you since I got back. I haven't even told you about the Blaneys."
"Oh, the highbrow people? No; were they interesting?"
"Yes, indeed. You'll meet them at the wedding. Now, see here, I've asked half a dozen of the crowd to stay to dinner tonight after the shower, so look after the commissariat, won't you?"
"With pleasure. Who's staying?"
"Oh, Mona and Roger and Elise and Kit Cameron and Phil,—that's all."