"Not like one of Uncle William's parties, though," put in Carl.
"School begins next week, and three months of pegging before
Christmas," groaned Aleck.
"Come on, then; let's make the most of the time we have," Carl urged
energetically.
It was the afternoon of the next day, and Louise stood before the
mirror critically viewing her sash.
"Why, Joanna! You have made Bess's bows ever so much longer than
mine."
"I can't see what difference that makes," was the rather sharp reply,
for the September day was warm and the task of dressing three restless
young ladies for a party was not conducive to coolness.
"It makes a great deal of difference to us, for we wish to look
exactly alike," said Louise loftily. "And if you are going to do a
thing at all, you ought to do it well; Father says so."
"Dear me! Here comes Ikey, and we are not ready," exclaimed Bess, who
stood at the window.
"You might be if you weren't so particular. I never saw the beat of
your equal," and Joanna whisked Helen's dress over her head.
"The _beat_ of your _equal_," Bess repeated. "What does that mean,
Jo?"
"My patience!" was the only reply to be had from this much-enduring
maid.
"Joanna is cross; I'll get Aunt Zelie to tie my sash," said Louise,
running off, followed by Bess.
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