"Funny she was in such a hurry," remarked Nancy. "I suppose someone fell out, and she's trying to get her list made up. What do you think, Mother?"
"Why, it's delightful. I want you to know Elise better anyway. You know her aunt married the Prince Brognelotti, and she will probably do everything for that girl when she makes her début." Mrs. Prescott rustled over to the writing-table and despatched a note in her flowing, pointed hand.
"Hush, Mamma, the chauffeur will hear you," cautioned Nancy with a slight frown. It always pricked her when Alma or her mother said snobbish little things, and roused her democratic pride—the stiffest pride in the world.
"A dance," carolled Alma, when the door had slammed again behind the emissary of the Porterbridge heiress. "A real, sure enough dance!" She seized Nancy by the waist and whirled her about; then suddenly she stopped so abruptly that Nancy bumped hard against the table. Alma's face was sober, as the great feminine wail rose to her lips:
"I haven't a thing to wear!"
"You must get something, then," said Mrs. Prescott, positively, as if it were the simplest thing in the world. "I want you to look lovely, Alma. It's dreadful to think of a girl with your beauty not being able to appear at your best all the time." Mrs. Prescott had a habit of speaking to Alma as if she were a petted débutante of nineteen, instead of just a pretty, care-free youngster of sixteen. She looked at Nancy, who was the treasurer of the family, much as an impecunious queen might look at her first Lord of the Exchequer while asking him for funds to buy a new crown.
"Why can't you wear your blue crepe," was Nancy's unfeeling answer. "It's very becoming, and you've hardly worn it."
"If you call that an evening dress," Alma cried, on the verge of tears, "you've a vivid imagination—that's all I've got to say. I just won't go if I have to look dowdy and home-made. I wouldn't have any kind of a time—you know that——"
"You could cut out the neck and sleeves, and get a new girdle. I'm going to do that to my yellow, and with a few flowers—there'll be some lovely cosmos in the garden—it'll look very nice. And you're sure to have a good time, no matter what you wear, Alma."
"Oh, she can't go if her clothes aren't just right, Nancy—that's all there is to it," said Mrs. Prescott.