“I’m afraid we’re early,” said the lady in her best silver silk dress and her very pretty new black-satin-trimmed-with-silver grapes, hat. She carried a little flat cushion for Tiny, out of respect for the silver silk dress.
“Mother will be down directly,” Nancy greeted Miss Townsend, in her very best manner. “Sit over here. We’ve fixed this corner for you.”
“Oh my!” exclaimed the lady in genuine admiration. “How lovely everything looks! However did you paint this old wood work white?”
“For our cooking class, you know,” replied Nancy, gaily. “Doesn’t it look—hygienic?”
“I—should—say—so!” Miss Townsend was aghast. “And I suppose, those spotless tables—”
“Are the old ones from around the porches and every place,” Nancy informed her. “We just daubed the legs white and covered the tops with oil cloth.”
“And I want to see that gas range. I’ve heard so much about it. Oh! there’s Miss Manners,” exclaimed Miss Townsend, “she’ll explain it to me, and you may run along, dear.” This was a release, not a dismissal for Nancy.
“She’ll buy one and that will be a good big discount for Manny,” Nancy told the girls who had heard most of the conversation.
“Yes. They’ve bought a new house—a brand spic-span new one,” Ruth whispered. “Father said Miss Townsend wanted the shiniest one he had for sale,” and there was a pardonable titter in response to that.
But guests were now arriving in pairs. There were Mr. and Mrs. Ashley, Ruth’s parents, Mr. and Mrs. Duryee, Isabel’s parents, besides Ted, Buster and Nero, the latter three being promptly assigned by Ruth to the corner nearest the side door.