Their short frocks were of white tarlatan, edged with lace, and much befrilled. Garlands of tiny rosebuds decked the skirts, and the bodices were trimmed with blue ribbons and gilt paper hearts. Toy Cupids perched on their shoulders, and love-knots of blue decked their hair.
“Do you expect Lieutenant Herron?” Helen asked, as they awaited the guests.
“Rather!” returned Patty, “considering he’s always about wherever you are.”
“Me! It’s you he hovers over! Don’t be coy,—you don’t fool your little Bumble-bee!”
“Don’t you be a silly!” laughed Patty; “I’ve no use for the Herron person. If he’s here tonight, I’ll take it as a favour if you’ll charm him away from my haunts.”
“Can’t do it,” and Helen shrugged her shoulders. “He won’t be charmed. Moreover, I’ve a lot of my own particular friends coming, and I’ll have my hands full to entertain them.”
“Nan was right when she called you a camp belle. You’re looking sweet tonight, Bumble, and I s’pect some man will buy you for a valentine. Is Chester coming?”
“I s’pose so. Wish he wasn’t! He’s such a burr.”
“Yes, he does stick to you. I’ll take him for a while, and give you some rest. I like Mr. Wilde a whole lot.”
The guests began to arrive, and soon the rooms were really crowded. The valentines sold quickly, for those who did not want them bought “for the good of the cause.”