: Nancy of Paradise Cottage by Watkins Shirley - Social classes Juvenile fiction; Sisters Juvenile fiction; Families Juvenile fiction; Finance Personal Juvenile fiction; First loves Juvenile fiction; Social adjustment Juvenile fiction

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"She could have a pale blue taffeta," Mrs. Prescott suggested, who was in her element when the subject turned to the matter of clothes, "made perfectly plain--with a broad girdle--or you could have a girdle and shoulder-knots of silver ribbon--and wear silver slippers with it. It would be dear with a round neck, and tiny little sleeves, and a short, bouffant skirt. You could wear my old rose-colored evening wrap,--it's still in perfect condition."

"Monday morning, then," said Nancy. "We'd better take an early train."

When her mother and sister had gone to bed, she took out her little account book and began to figure, then all at once she flung the pencil down in disgust at herself.

"Only I'm jolly well sick of being a boy, Daddy," she said, as she jumped into bed. "I'll let the first person who steps forward take the job."

A MODERN CINDERELLA

"Let's take a cab to the station. The roads are awfully wet still, and I'll ruin my shoes," suggested Alma. The little family were at breakfast, Nancy and Alma hastily swallowing their coffee so that they could hurry off to the station. After the fit of autumn wind and rain, another summer day had come, with a glistening sunlight which was doing its best to cheer up the drooping flowers in the tiny garden.

"Seventy-five dollars ought to be enough," said Mrs. Prescott vaguely, after a moment's calculation. Nancy whooped.

"Seventy-five! Good gracious--why, if I spend a cent over forty, we'll have to live on bread and water for the rest of the month!"

"Well, just as you think, dear--you know best, of course," Mrs. Prescott answered absently. "You two had better be starting. I wish you would get Alma a new hat while you're in town, Nancy. I don't quite like that one she has--it doesn't go with her suit."

Nancy pushed her chair back from the table.

"I'll trot out and see Hannah a moment. We have about thirty-five minutes, Alma."

It took them twenty minutes to walk to the station. Alma was in high spirits, Nancy still thoughtful. But the wind was up and out, tossing the trees, rippling the puddles, which reflected a clear, sparkling sky, and the riotous, care-free mood of the morning was infectious.

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