“You look tolerable perky yourself,” retorted her sister. Just as the sophomores and seniors of a college seem to fraternize, so it is often the case with the first and third members of a family. Douglas and Nan hit it off better with one another than they did with either Helen or Lucy.
“I feel like flying!” declared Douglas. “I don’t mean in an aeroplane but just of my own accord. I am so happy that mother has given up that terrible plan for me, given it up without father’s knowing anything about it. I wish I knew who had persuaded her or how it came about. She is rather—well, not exactly cold with me—but not exactly chummy. She has not told me yet, but if you say it is so, I know it is so. I went to her room this morning so she could tell me if she wanted to, but she didn’t say a thing about it. She got a lot of letters from New York by the early mail. I am mighty afraid they are bills.”
“Pretty apt to be,” sighed Nan. “I hope she won’t give them to father.”
“Oh, she mustn’t do that. I shall have to ask her for them. I hate to do it. She thinks I am so stern.”
“Let me do it,” said Nan magnanimously. “I wonder how much they amount to.”
“Oh, Nan! Would you mind asking for them?”
“Well, I am not crazy about it, but I’ll do it,” and do it she did.
She found her mother in a dainty negligee writing notes at a little desk her devoted husband had fashioned from a packing box.
“Ah, Nan, how sweet of you to come to me! I see so little of my girls now, they are so occupied with outside interests. Here, child, just run these ribbons in my underwear. It really takes a great deal of time to keep one’s clothes in order. Susan should do such things for me, but she is constantly being called off to do other things, at least she says she is. What, I can’t for the life of me see.”