Tell Nicky, Ada, about the drawing
you did last week that your teacher showed to the class."
"Oh," said Ada, blushing softly, "Mr. Turkletaub isn't interested in
that."
"Yes, I am," said Nicholas, politely, eating one of the meats.
"You mean the Tudor dining room--"
No, no! You know, the blue-and-white one you said you liked best of
all."
"It was a nursery," began Ada, softly. "Just one of those blue-and-white
darlingnesses for somebody's little darling."
"For somebody's little darling," repeated Mrs. Turkletaub, silently. She
had the habit, when moved, of mouthing people's words after them.
"My idea was--Oh, it's so silly to be telling it again, Mrs.
Turkletaub!"
"Silly! I think it's grand that a girl brought up to the best should
want to make something of herself. Don't you, Nick?"
"H-m-m!"
"Well, my little idea was white walls with little Delft-blue borders
of waddling duckies; white dotted Swiss curtains in the brace of sunny
southern-exposure windows, with little Delft-blue borders of more
waddling duckies; and dear little nursery rhymes painted in blue on the
headboard to keep baby's dreams sweet.
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