“Not vain, Mums. I’m not silly enough for that, for I’ve got to admit I’ve been rather selfish all the way through—it has been such a lot of fun.”
And Nancy meant it. She was not posing, nor was she playing at being humble, for her mind was of that quality that reasons and analyzes one’s own motives as well as looking for motives in others. In that way she had acquired what is called “common sense,” perhaps because every one should try, at least, to possess a measure of it.
Now Mrs. Brandon, as well as Ted, was dressing. To please Nancy she had promised to wear her geranium georgette, a soft dress that toned so well with her dark hair and dark eyes, for Mrs. Brandon was still young, and a handsome woman.
And the girls were fairly dancing around the store, arranging chairs brought in from the porch, dining room and even from the kitchen.
“Let’s make a little platform for Mr. Sanders,” Ruth proposed. “This top step of the back stairs will do. We don’t have to open that door.”
“And have a stand and a glass of water—” Isabel added.
“And flowers,” insisted Nancy. “I must have flowers, they’re so silly for a man’s speech, they’ll make every body laugh.”
“Maybe hollyhocks would,” Ruth said, “but I doubt if your audience would see the joke if you put a bunch of roses there.”
So they progressed, until very soon, too soon for the girls, the company began to arrive.
Mr. and Miss Townsend, and little, brown, woolly Tiny came first.