“The boys as well as the girls,” April laughed; “so look out for your beaux, Dorothea.”
“Do not believe all that they say, my dear,” Miss Imogene protested with the very faintest of becoming blushes. “They love to tease their old cousin. And now let me see the finery you have brought from the outside world.”
She was soon hovering over the silks and satins and fine linen Dorothea spread out for them to admire.
“Ah,” murmured Miss Imogene, holding a gay flowered muslin in her dainty fingers, “I wore a dress made of a material quite like that when Larry Stanchfield gave his celebrated supper. You remember, ’Thenia.”
“Indeed I do,” Mrs. May answered with a knowing glance at the other. “And I remember his toast ‘To the fairest of all dark women! Fairer than any blonde.’”
“Do you really recollect that?” murmured Miss Imogene.
“Yes, my dear, and I know whose slipper he drank it out of,” Mrs. May continued. “It was a very gay party and not one to be forgotten.”
“But the dresses were cut very differently in those days,” Miss Imogene said, a little hurriedly, almost as if she wished to change the subject.
“But whose slipper was it?” demanded the inquisitive Harriot.
“Cousin Imogene’s, of course,” April responded, laughing.