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?©, Lyda Farrington

"We Ten Or, The Story of the Roses"

No charge made for that good advice. Now, Nancy, let's hear
from you."
Nannie hesitated a little. "Why--I think I enjoyed it," she said slowly;
"yes, I did."
"What! _did_ you?" I exclaimed in surprise. "You mean to say you enjoyed
sitting on that lounge and seeing Miss Devereaux snub that unfortunate
little woman in the hideous bonnet?"
"Well, no, not that part," admitted Nannie.
"And did you enjoy the _pater's_ smashing the Doulton bowl?"
"Oh, no, of _course_ not," Nannie returned, somewhat indignantly.
"Then where did the enjoyment come in?" I persisted.
"I can't tell you why, or when, or how, but I enjoyed it," was Nannie's
reply; and then, "without rhyme or reason," as nurse says, she blushed a
vivid red.
"Do look at her!" teased Phil. "Why, Nancy, it isn't against the law to
have enjoyed yourself. What're you blushing for?"
"I'm sure I don't know," my twinnie answered, with such a look of
perplexity in her sweet, honest eyes that we had to laugh. Whereupon she
blushed rosier than ever, even to her ears and her pretty throat, and
running over to me, hid her flushed face on my shoulder. "Please stop
teasing, Fee," she whispered.


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