"Nan," here Joan pointed her finger, "do you know a blessed thing about your father? I don't!"
Nancy flushed, but made no reply.
"There's where the secret lies—I feel it in my blood!" Joan shuddered and Nancy laughed. "It didn't seem to matter until now, but, Nan, we're women at last!"
"Of course," Nancy spoke, "I have thought of that. The best families have such things in them—but they don't talk about them. Now that we are women we must act like women—such women as Aunt Dorrie."
"Nan, you're a snob. A pitiful, beautiful little snob!" Joan wafted a kiss. "Your prettiness saves you. If you had a turned-up nose you'd be an abomination."
"You have no right to call me a snob, Joan!" Nancy's fair face flushed.
"Did I call you a snob, Nan, dear?"
"Yes, you did. It's not being a snob to be true to oneself." Nancy put up her defences.
"I should say not," Joan agreed, but she laughed.
"Just think of all that Aunt Dorrie represents!" Nancy went on. "She's all that her father and her grandfather——"