Of course Carl and Jerry can't dance because they're
the minister's sons, or else I could depend on them to save me from
utter disgrace."
"You'll have plenty of partners--all the over-harbour boys are coming--
there'll be far more boys than girls."
"I'm glad I'm not a minister's daughter," laughed Rilla. "Poor Faith is
so furious because she won't dare to dance tonight. Una doesn't care, of
course. She has never hankered after dancing. Somebody told Faith there
would be a taffy-pull in the kitchen for those who didn't dance and you
should have seen the face she made. She and Jem will sit out on the
rocks most of the evening, I suppose. Did you know that we are all to
walk down as far as that little creek below the old House of Dreams and
then sail to the lighthouse? Won't it just be absolutely divine?"
"When I was fifteen I talked in italics and superlatives too," said Miss
Oliver sarcastically. "I think the party promises to be pleasant for
young fry. I expect to be bored. None of those boys will bother dancing
with an old maid like me. Jem and Walter will take me out once out of
charity. So you can't expect me to look forward to it with your touching
young rapture."
"Didn't you have a good time at your first party, though, Miss Oliver?"
"No. I had a hateful time. I was shabby and homely and nobody asked me
to dance except one boy, homelier and shabbier than myself.
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