"Don't talk in that strain, or I'll weep on your shoulder. I'm all keyed up, you know—honest, Patty, it's pretty awful to have no mother or aunt or anything. Only just a father, who's heavenly kind and generous, but no good for advice or consulting talks."
"All right, Mona girl, we won't indulge in real talk now, for the girls will begin to come in a minute. Go and primp a little, and then come down to the drawing-room."
Patty ran downstairs, Mona soon followed, and then the guests arrived.
In an effort to have a new sort of a shower, Patty had decreed a lace shower, and many and varied were the gifts. As Patty had wisely remarked, lace gave a wide scope. One could choose valuable specimens of real lace or trifling affairs that were pretty and inexpensive.
And so, when the time for their exhibition came the score of merry young people sat breathlessly awaiting the fun.
In the doorway appeared Elise, in the costume of a Brittany peasant. She carried a huge white basket ornamented with orange blossoms and fluttering white ribbons.
"Laces, lady?" she said, approaching Mona. "Nice, pretty laces.
Handiwork of the humble peasants for the grand lady. Accept,—please."
With bows and curtseys, Elise opened the basket and placed it at Mona's feet.
Delightedly, Mona examined the contents, and at each gift a chorus of exclamations went up from all the admiring throng.
Patty's offering was a tablecloth of Filet Antique and Venetian embroidery, and was among the most beautiful in the lot.