| Author: | Louisa M. Alcott | ISBN: | 1230000139581 |
| Publisher: | WDS Publishing | Publication: | June 6, 2013 |
| Imprint: | Language: | English |
| Author: | Louisa M. Alcott |
| ISBN: | 1230000139581 |
| Publisher: | WDS Publishing |
| Publication: | June 6, 2013 |
| Imprint: | |
| Language: | English |
"O Pris, Pris, I'm really going! Here's the invitation--rough
paper--Chapel--spreads--Lyceum Hall--everything splendid; and Jack to
take care of me!"
As Kitty burst into the room and performed a rapturous _pas seul_,
waving the cards over her head, sister Priscilla looked up from her
work with a smile of satisfaction on her quiet face.
"Who invites you, dear?"
"Why, Jack, of course,--dear old cousin Jack. Nobody else ever thinks
of me, or cares whether I have a bit of pleasure now and then. Isn't
he kind? Mayn't I go? and, O Pris, what _shall_ I wear?"
Kitty paused suddenly, as if the last all-important question had a
solemnizing effect upon both mind and body.
"Why, your white muslin, silk sacque, and new hat, of course," began
Pris with an air of surprise. But Kitty broke in impetuously,--
"I'll never wear that old muslin again; it's full of darns, up to my
knees, and all out of fashion. So is my sacque; and as for my hat,
though it does well enough here, it would be absurd for Class Day."
"You don't expect an entirely new suit for this occasion,--do you?"
asked Pris, anxiously.
"Yes, I do, and I'll tell you how I mean to get it. I've planned
everything; for, though I hardly dreamed of going, I amused myself by
thinking how I could manage if I _did_ get invited."
"Let us hear." And Pris took up her work with an air of resignation.
"First, my dress," began Kitty, perching herself on the arm of the
sofa, and entering into the subject with enthusiasm. "I've got the ten
dollars grandpa sent me, and with eight of it I'm going to buy
Lizzie King's organdie muslin. She got it in Paris; but her aunt
providentially--no, unfortunately--died; so she can't wear it, and
wants to get rid of it. She is bigger than I am, you know; so there is
enough for a little mantle or sacque, for it isn't made up. The skirt
is cut off and gored, with a splendid train--"
"O Pris, Pris, I'm really going! Here's the invitation--rough
paper--Chapel--spreads--Lyceum Hall--everything splendid; and Jack to
take care of me!"
As Kitty burst into the room and performed a rapturous _pas seul_,
waving the cards over her head, sister Priscilla looked up from her
work with a smile of satisfaction on her quiet face.
"Who invites you, dear?"
"Why, Jack, of course,--dear old cousin Jack. Nobody else ever thinks
of me, or cares whether I have a bit of pleasure now and then. Isn't
he kind? Mayn't I go? and, O Pris, what _shall_ I wear?"
Kitty paused suddenly, as if the last all-important question had a
solemnizing effect upon both mind and body.
"Why, your white muslin, silk sacque, and new hat, of course," began
Pris with an air of surprise. But Kitty broke in impetuously,--
"I'll never wear that old muslin again; it's full of darns, up to my
knees, and all out of fashion. So is my sacque; and as for my hat,
though it does well enough here, it would be absurd for Class Day."
"You don't expect an entirely new suit for this occasion,--do you?"
asked Pris, anxiously.
"Yes, I do, and I'll tell you how I mean to get it. I've planned
everything; for, though I hardly dreamed of going, I amused myself by
thinking how I could manage if I _did_ get invited."
"Let us hear." And Pris took up her work with an air of resignation.
"First, my dress," began Kitty, perching herself on the arm of the
sofa, and entering into the subject with enthusiasm. "I've got the ten
dollars grandpa sent me, and with eight of it I'm going to buy
Lizzie King's organdie muslin. She got it in Paris; but her aunt
providentially--no, unfortunately--died; so she can't wear it, and
wants to get rid of it. She is bigger than I am, you know; so there is
enough for a little mantle or sacque, for it isn't made up. The skirt
is cut off and gored, with a splendid train--"
