“Oh, let’s all of us go!” exclaimed Pauline. And so the four who were too weary to change their dresses to go buy buttons went gayly off to prepare themselves to visit their foolish sister in what they considered her degrading stronghold.
“I’ll see the agent and engage the cottage at the lake for June, while I am down town,” said Mrs. Wright as she bustled into her street clothes after having fitted the shirt waists and given Miss Pinkie minute directions as to how to sew them up.
Mrs. Wright and her daughters made a handsome group as together they walked down the street. The mother had been a very pretty girl and still was a good looking woman, although she had no time to give to her own appearance. She spent all the money and time that could be spared on beautifying her daughters. Her object in life was to marry them well and it was said by the knowing ones of Dorfield that she kept a list of the eligible young men of the town and carefully cultivated them in degree according to their eligibility.
“Who was that young man who bowed to you just now?” she asked Pauline sharply. “I never saw him before.”
“He’s a friend of Danny Dexter’s. I met him last night at the dance. He’s on a newspaper, I believe.”
“The Recorder. He dances divinely.”
“You did not tell me his name.”
“I don’t know it.”
“Weren’t you introduced?” she asked, shocked.