“Oh, Patty!” cried Nan, “how can you use slang in Venice?”
But the allusion was lost on Flo and Snippy, who knew little of American jests.
Their rooms looked out on the Grand Canal, and there was a wide board sidewalk between the hotel and the water.
This was crowded with people promenading up and down, both Italians and foreigners.
“Well,” said Patty to Flo, through the open door of their adjoining rooms. “Will you look at that! If it isn’t like the board walk at Atlantic City!”
Flo had never seen Atlantic City, but she, too, was fascinated by the brilliant pageant, and the two girls sat in the window, gazing out, quite forgetting that they had been told to change their frocks for dinner. Nan came in, trailing her pretty white draperies.
“Why, girls, haven’t you begun to dress?” she said. “You must hurry. We want to dine and then go Venicing by moonlight.”
“Ooh, ee!” cried Patty; “I’ll be attired in two minutes. Hurry up, Flo. Snippy will hook you, and Nan will help me, won’t you, ducky stepmother o’ mine?”
“Yes, if you’ll fly ’round,” said Nan, laughing, as Patty shook down her sunny tangle of curls, and then shook it up again, and twisted a white ribbon through it.
“What shall I wear, Nan? Open my trunk and get out anything you like.”