“Ravishing! Simply ravishing!” cried Mrs. Deacon in perfect raptures. “So simple. And after all, is there anything like simplicity?”
“How will you get a lyre?” asked the practical Annie Lee.
“I shall try to make one out of card-board and gold paper.”
“Or you could borrow old Mr. Poindexter’s banjo,” suggested Jane, gravely. “That would really be better, because you could twang on it.”
Amelia did not deign to reply to this remark.
“What are you going to wear, Lily?” Elise put in hurriedly, throwing a reproving look at Jane.
Lily glanced at her mother.
“I wish I could go as—as a Spanish dancer!” she said timidly.
“A Spanish dancer, Lily!” cried Mrs. Deacon. “Indeed I could not permit anything of the sort! No. But it seems to me that it would be very delightful if you should affect a character very similar to Amelia’s. Why would it not be sweet for you to go together as the Two Muses, the one fair, the other brunette, representing, as it were, the poetical talent of Frederickstown? I would suggest, too, that each of you recite some little poem of her own composition. Lily, I must find that album.” And with this, Mrs. Deacon hastened from the room.
Lily looked distressed. She was terribly shy, and the thought of having her poor little verses publicly read and appraised, dyed her smooth face, with one of her frequent blushes.