over the telephone and Green Valley responded whole-heartedly, as it
always did to all her work.

Fanny Foster had found time to run down to Jessup's and buy the bride a
first-class tablecloth and some towels. Fanny was always buying the
most appropriate, tasty and serviceable things for other people and the
most outlandish, cheap and second-hand stuff for herself. The
tablecloth was extravagantly good, as Grandma sternly told her.

But, "La--what of it! I was saving the money to buy myself a silk
petticoat," Fanny defended herself. "I wanted to know just once before
I died what and how it felt like to rustle up the church aisle instead
of slinking down it on a Sunday morning. But I just think a silk
petticoat isn't worth thinking about when a thing like this happens."

So Grandma smiled and as she laid out her best black silk she made a
mental note of the fact that Fanny Foster was to have, sometime or
other, a silk petticoat, made up to her for this day's work and
self-sacrifice. For Grandma was one of those rare practical people who
yet believed in respecting the foolish dreams of impractical humans.

So it came about that everybody who could walk was at Tommy's and
Alice's wedding. The bride wore a beautifully simple dress that came
from Paris in Nan's trunk. And there were roses in her hair and Tommy
hardly knew her, and her father and mother certainly did not, so dazed
were they.

The little doll house was already a home, with all of Green Valley
trooping in to leave little gifts and stopping long enough to shake
Tommy's hand and wish him luck and health and maybe twins.