Patty had such good taste, and Nan such good judgment, that they bought only the most desirable things, and a fine collection they made.
“It’s really economy to buy these, Patty,” said Nan, holding up some embroidered waists as sheer and fine as a handkerchief, “for they’re about half the price they cost at home; and as these styles are ahead of ours, they’ll be all right for next summer.”
“Right you are,” said Patty, gaily; “and what we don’t want ourselves will be lovely for Christmas presents. And, oh, Nan, do look at these lace parasols! I’m going to get one for Marian; she’ll be wild over it.”
“No, don’t, Patty; they are exquisite, and would be just the thing for an English garden party. But Marian would never have an opportunity to carry that fluff of lace and chiffon and pink roses.”
“I s’pose not,” said Patty, regretfully. “It would look startling to take to the Tea Cub meetings at Vernondale, and she couldn’t carry it to New York! Well, I’ll leave it, then, and get her a mackintosh or something sensible, instead.”
“No, don’t go to the other extreme,” said Nan, laughing, “get her a hat, if you like, or a feather boa, but get something that the girl can use.”
“Sensible little stepmother,” said Patty, good-naturedly; “You’re always right, and I’m proud to be your friend and partner.”
So the buying went merrily on. Sometimes Patty advised Nan against a combination of colours that didn’t quite harmonise, or a decoration that wasn’t exactly suitable, and Nan gladly deferred to the younger girl’s taste.
“One more farewell glimpse of my Venus, and then I’ll go home,” said Patty, as the afternoon shadows began to lengthen; and telling the cabman to take them to the Louvre, the two went in for a last sight of the statue.
“Isn’t she beautiful!” said Patty, for the fiftieth time. “I know there’ll be nothing in all Italy to compare with her.”