Isn’t Mrs. Phelps too perfectly sweet! That is the loveliest fan I ever laid eyes on, and to think it’s mine!
And will you look at this? A silver coffee-machine! Oh, Nan, mayn’t I make it work, sometimes?
Indeed you may; and oh, see this! A piece of antique Japanese bronze! Isn’t it great?
I don’t like it as well as the sparkling, shiny things. This silver tray beats it all hollow. Did you ever see such a brightness in your life?
Patty, you’re hopelessly Philistine! But that tray is lovely, and of an exquisite design. Patty and Nan were unpacking wedding presents, and the room was strewn with boxes, tissue paper, cotton wool, and shredded-paper packing. Only three days more, and then Nan Allen was to marry Mr. Fairfield, Patty’s father. Patty was spending the whole week at the Allen home in Philadelphia, and was almost as much interested in the wedding preparations as Nan herself. I don’t think there’s anything so much fun as a house with a wedding fuss in it, said Patty to Mrs. Allen, as Nan’s mother came into the room where the girls were.