"I'll tell Ruth to bring him if he comes, and he's pretty sure to be on hand," laughed Amy. "He's making up for the chances he missed when he was in the service."
"Then I'm afraid we can't come," said Priscilla. "Horace thinks Bob Carey is fine, and he rather likes Graham, but he draws the line at Nelson."
Amy stopped short, her plump face crimson. "Please tell me what you mean by his drawing the line?"
"Well, Amy, I've no doubt that Nelson is a very fine fellow, as far as morals go, but his social position, you know—"
"What about it?" As the two girls were standing side by side, it was quite unnecessary for Amy to speak so loudly. Her defiant tone seemed to challenge the entire block.
"Hush, Amy. I'm not deaf. Of course Nelson comes from quite an ordinary family, and he's only a clerk, and Horace really doesn't care to meet him socially."
Amy burst into an angry laugh. "Horace Hitchcock said that. What a joke!"
"I don't quite understand you, Amy." Priscilla spoke with extreme frigidity.
"Why, there's enough in Nelson Hallowell's little finger to make several Horaces. To think of that dandified little manikin's turning up his nose at a fellow like Nelson."
"Amy Lassell, how dare you?"