“Yes,” agreed Lily. “I had been thinking of that sort of thing as in the future for us, and here we are in the midst of it.”
“The only thing is—Doris is so awfully young. Most American girls don’t get married in their teens, you know.”
“Well, I certainly hope you won’t, Marj!” remarked Lily. “I’d never go back to college without you.”
“Don’t you worry about that!” returned her chum, laughingly. “I’m going to get my degree, all right!”
Mrs. Andrews’s voice from the other end of the apartment put a stop to this conversation. She was calling to the girls to come and inspect the table.
As they opened the dining-room door a moment later, Marjorie was simply astounded by the beauty and elaborateness of the decorations. She had never seen anything so lovely before, even within the covers of a magazine, and she gazed in speechless admiration.
The general color-scheme was pink—pink roses, pink ribbons, pink candles in profusion. A large pink silk parasol, filled with flowers, hung by streamers from the ceiling, and from each of its points a ribbon, tied to a place-card and a bouquet, fluttered to a plate at the table. The “shower,” too, was literally coming down from the sky, for the packages which had been received ahead of time by Mrs. Andrews, were wrapped in tissue paper and suspended by ribbon from the ceiling to a height a little above the parasol in the center.
“It’s gorgeous!” cried Marjorie, in ecstasy. “The very prettiest thing I’ve ever seen! Doris will remember it for the rest of her life.”
“I’m glad you like it,” smiled Mrs. Andrews. “Is there anything you could suggest?”
“No, it’s perfect as it is!” replied Marjorie. “I sort of feel as if we oughtn’t to disturb it by eating luncheon here.”