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"That's just the way you look and do," he declared. "You're the broad and flowery path that leadeth to destruction." "Never mind, Babyette," put in Angela, "I'll take your part if no one else will. You're a nice, demure, shrinking girl and you wouldn't look at anyone, would you?" Angela got up and was holding Marietta's head mock sympathetically in her arms.
"Wear them with that tan linen dress of mine and your tan shoes some day for Eugene. You'll look stunning in those things and he'll like you. Why don't you take the new buggy and drive over to Blackwood to meet him? That's it. You must meet him." "Oh, I don't think I want to, Babyette," she replied. She was afraid of this first impression. She did not want to appear to run after him.
Let him come over here first; then I'll drive him over some afternoon." "Oh, Angel Face! Well, anyhow, when he comes you must wear that little rose flowered house dress and put a wreath of green leaves in your hair." "Oh, I won't do anything of the sort, Babyette," exclaimed Angela. "Yes, you will," replied her sister. "Now you just have to do what I tell you for once.
Babyette was a nickname which had been applied to Marietta in childhood and had never been dropped. "Oh, pshaw, Angel Face, don't be so backward! You're the shyest thing I know. Why that's nothing. He'll like you all the better for treating him just a little smartly. You do that now, will you?" "I can't," replied Angela. "I can't do it that way.
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