“Black silk,” said Miss Jane. “And Honiton lace,” added Miss Mary.
“Lovely!” cried Paddy. “I am certain you will be the belles of the ball. No one will look at Eileen and me.”
“Nonsense, my dear,” shaking her head; “two old things like Mary and myself belles of the ball indeed! No, no; you and Eileen will be that, and we shall rejoice to see it.”
“Now you are sarcastic, auntie,” shaking a threatening finger at her; “as if any belle of a ball ever had a sallow skin and snub nose like mine. No, if I am a belle at all it will have to be from a back view only. I really do think my hair is prettier than Eileen’s, so with the front of her and the back of me, we ought to carry off the palm.”
“What about Kathleen and Doreen?” put in Eileen, “they have improved wonderfully.”
“Yes, and their dresses were bought in Paris. It’s not fair,” and Paddy pulled a face. “We all ought to have started equally with dresses made in Ireland.”
“My dear, dress makes very little difference,” said little Miss Mary; “expression and manner are everything, and Kathleen and Doreen, though charming girls, are both a little stiff at present. I haven’t a doubt your programmes will be full almost before you are in the ball-room.”
“I guess so,” said Paddy mischievously. “I’ve promised twice the number of dances there are already, but as I’ve forgotten who they were all to, it doesn’t matter. I am thinking of arriving with two boards like a sandwich man, and on one side I shall have in large letters ‘Please note all previous engagements cancelled,’ and on the other ‘Book early as a great rush is anticipated.’”
The two little ladies laughed merrily, and then suddenly grew serious and looked at each other, as if preparing for some pre-arranged announcement.
“My dears!” began Miss Jane, the spokeswoman, while Miss Mary nodded her head in solemn agreement.