“Audrey may be intent on college, Janie, and not courting romance now, but I assure you I never saw a girl in my life so interested in intellectual aims that she could not at least see a handsome youth’s admiration, even though she would not dally to regard it,” said Mrs. Garden wisely. “Central, please give me Mr. Austin Moulton, 4-8-2 Willow Street.”
Florimel had been on the couch, submerged in a book and a box of buttercups, a combination that satisfied her, mind and body, for she dearly loved the condemned habit of eating while she read. Now she raised her head and rolled over approvingly.
“That’s what I always thought, madrina. I don’t believe a girl doesn’t feel pleased when such a perfect duck of a fellow as our Win thinks she’s the cream of the whole dairy! And I’m sure she’s as proud as she can be to think she’s strong minded enough to go right on thinking she’s only thinking of college! I’m only thirteen, but I can see that,” she announced.
“Just let me order a few thinks, madrina, when you’re through with the telephone; Mel put all the thinks we had in the house into that sentence,” said Jane.
“Mother can’t hear when they connect her if you two keep up that chatter,” suggested Mary. “As to being only thirteen, Mellie, I’ve an idea that thirteen sees most, because it’s so sharply interested in getting facts—especially of that sort!”
“Well, I’m interested in all there is going,” said Florimel truthfully, once more plunging into her book, which swallowed her up as completely and instantly as if she had not emerged from it.
“Mark will come! I’ll tell Win now. Perhaps I’d better say who’ll be here, if you think he likes to see Audrey,” cried Mrs. Garden gleefully, perfectly happy in the prospect of the afternoon before her.
“Isn’t it lucky our linnet sings over trifles as cheerfully as over anything worth chirping about?” asked Jane. She and Mary were always congratulating each other on their mother’s childish lightness of heart.
The girls came trouping, all together, at a little before three in the afternoon.
“It’s fearfully early to come, Mary,” said Dorothy Bristead, as spokesman of the four, “but Mrs. Garden told us to come early; she had too much to show us to get through in a short time. Besides, we couldn’t wait. She told us something about the photographs she’s going to show us. Are they wonderful?”