The delights of the
vision must have reflected in her face because finally her father
said:
"Well, Missy, what's all the smiling about?"
Missy blushed as if she'd been caught in mischief; but she answered,
wistfully rather than hopefully:
"I was just thinking how nice it would be if I had some white fox
furs."
"For heaven's sake!" commented mother. "When you've already got a
new set not two months old!"
Missy didn't reply to that; she didn't want to seem unappreciative.
It was true she had a new set, warm and serviceable, but--well, a
short-haired, dark-brown collarette hasn't the allure of a fluffy,
snow-white boa.
Mother was going on: "That ought to do you two winters at least--if
not three."
"I don't know what the present generation is coming to," put in Aunt
Nettie with what seemed to Missy entire irrelevance. Aunt Nettie was
a spinster, even older than Missy's mother, and her lack of
understanding and her tendency to criticize and to laugh was
especially dreaded by her niece.
"Nowadays girls still in knee-skirts expect to dress and act like
society belles!"
"I wasn't expecting the white fox furs," said Missy defensively.
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