“I suppose we both could afford at least some of that sort of change,” said Nancy, warming up to Betty’s pleasantries. “But if I had just known what clothes I should have needed, I am sure I would have brought them along.”
“Then, I’m glad you didn’t know. Otherwise I should have missed all the fun of my shopping tour. Folks think me very vain, I know,” admitted the pretty Mrs. Fernell, “but I do love beautiful things. I’d like to dress a whole army of girls—”
“But not like soldiers,” ventured Nancy.
“Like the prettiest soldiers in all ages—the girls who fight the battles of wanting things they deserve, yet cannot always have.” In this rather confused speech, even Nancy could see that Betty was trying to avoid reference to her own (Nancy’s) possible needs.
“You are very kind, indeed,” said Nancy quietly.
“Not really. Because, you see, my dear, I have given myself so much pleasure. But I hope things will fit and that you will like—most of them.”
“I’m sure to,” declared Nancy. Then as Betty stood up she asked:
“Isn’t anything in the box for Rosa? If I see that she likes anything may I say you would like her to have it?”
“You clever child!” laughed the lady, and Nancy’s admiration for her charms increased with the flow of silvery sounds. “You are really an idealist; you must have everything ideally arranged,” she finished.
“But I am not, really,” protested Nancy, now actually sensing the dreaded lecture.