“There is one thing I must have,” decreed Nancy, a few days later, as she and Jeanette were setting out on one of their frequent shopping excursions.
“What’s that?”
“A new suitcase.”
“But Nan,” objected Jeanette, “you bought one when we went to New Orleans!”
“I know it; and when I got home from college this June, someone had kindly put a hole right through the side of it. Under the circumstances, even a person as economically-minded as you are, must admit that I can’t carry a suitcase in such a condition. I saw a new kind advertised the other day, called a wardrobe suitcase; and I thought we’d go to Leonard’s now and look at one. Dad said he would buy it for me as a sort of going-away present, if it doesn’t cost too much.”
Before long they were in the luggage store, listening to the persuasive voice of the salesman, who was enlarging on the advantages of that particular type of suitcase.
“It is lovely,” agreed Jeanette, as Nancy exclaimed over the little compartment for shoes, and a larger one for hats and underwear.
“And you see,” continued the clerk, “this rod in the cover lifts out so you can hang several dresses on it, by folding them once; then you put the rod back, press it in, snap these elastic bands across, and your clothing will come out without a wrinkle.”
The price of the suitcase was not prohibitive, since a special sale was going on; so Nancy bought it, and left it to be marked.
“Now where?” asked Jeanette.