“Why, I think that’s a perfectly splendid idea,” she heard Miss Townsend say, in reference to the plan of giving the store over to Miss Manners. “And I must say you are very generous, Mrs. Brandon,” she complimented. “As a matter of fact, fancy-store business is not what it used to be. More folks now take to the mail order plan, especially in winter. Why, there were months when I didn’t see the color of a 'green back’ in that place,” she admitted. “Yet, I couldn’t help loving the old place. I had been in it so long,” she concluded earnestly.
“I met Mr. Sanders’ daughter, Miss Townsend,” Nancy spoke up, determined to bring up that subject, “and I think she’s a perfectly splendid girl.”
“Isn’t she though! But she couldn’t help but be smart with such a father.” This last little speech was indeed a compliment to the absent Mr. Sanders.
“But where does he live?” demanded Nancy, without any attempt to cloak her question with indifference.
“Live? Why, my dear child, he lives here! Just moved in, and I do declare, the man needs some comfort after all he’s been through. If Elmer comes in before you go I’ll have him bring Mr. Sanders in. We are all the best of friends now,” declared the incomprehensible little woman on the green velour sofa.
CHAPTER XV
TALKING IT OVER
“You haven’t really sold out?” Ruth demanded incredulously.
“Going, going, going, gone!” sang back Nancy. “Manny is a wonder. She just sells and goes on with her preparations, and girls, when my store is all cleaned out I wouldn’t wonder but we’ll have a model class room, instead of the Whatnot Shop.” Nancy was flitting around like some full grown elf. The three girls, Isabel was with them, were out on the broad sloping grounds surrounding Ruth’s home, and it was perfectly plain that Nancy was already enjoying her freedom from business.
“I think it’s splendid,” Isabel joined in. “We took millinery last August, you know, so we don’t want any more hat making. Mother is simply thrilled, as Vera would say, and you know, Nan, Vera is due back Tuesday. I guess the stores ran out of post cards and she couldn’t live at Beverly without cards. I’ve got enough of mine to paper our attic room.”
“And you’d never guess,” enthused Nancy, “that salesman who came in with the fishing tackle for our big sale, you know, is going to send Manny a gas range! Just think of it, a gas range for us to use, to practice cooking on.”