Celia Ferris had her white satin, but it was veiled with soft white tulle, and made a very pretty, girlish dance-frock.
Celia was chummy with the two D’s, but she had begun to feel a little jealous of them, for they were exceedingly popular, and received a great deal of attention. However, she was pleasant-mannered, and spoke cordially with them whenever they met.
After a time Dolly noticed a girl, who seemed to be a wall-flower. She was a nice-looking and well-dressed girl, but she danced very seldom, and most of the time sat discontentedly looking at the others.
There were some other wall-flowers, as is always the case, but none were so frequently left partnerless as this particular girl.
“Who is she?” asked Dolly of Lollie Henry, with whom she happened to be dancing.
“Oh, that’s Bernice Forbes. She’s a muff.”
“Don’t be rude, Lollie. What do you mean,—a muff?”
“Nothing, only she hasn’t any go to her,—any life, any vim, you know.”
“But she might, if she were asked to dance oftener. Have you asked her?”
“Not much! I don’t dance with B. Forbes, when I can get anybody else.”