“Poor Tavia Trouble-ty-bubble!” cooed Dorothy.
“Yes,” admitted her chum. “Look!” with desperation.
She held up two stockings—they never could have made a pair of “hose,” for one was white while the other was flesh color.
“See what I am reduced to,” continued the irrepressible. “If I wear them with pumps folks will think I’m mismated, too! Whatever shall I do, Doro?”
There was company expected at the Hardin ranch-house and the girls were “dolling up,” as Nat called it, in honor of old Mrs. Petterby and Lance.
“Wear black ones,” answered the practical Dorothy.
“Oh, but black isn’t fashionable—and certainly not with white pumps,” said Tavia, sadly.
“I cannot advise you, then,” said Dorothy. “And, anyway, Tavia, you always talk so fast that nobody ever looks at your feet.”
“But—when I’m silent?” demanded Tavia.
“When is that?” demanded her friend, laughing.