The
others were already handsomely provided. Miss Jocund was quite at
liberty to attend to them at this early hour of the day--her "gentleman"
had not come in yet--and she conducted them to her show-room over the
shop with the complacent alacrity of a milliner confident that she is
about to give supreme satisfaction. And indeed Mrs. Stokes cried out
with rapture, the instant the bonnet filled her eye, that it was "A
sweet little bonnet--blue crape and white marabouts!"
Bessie smiled most becomingly as it was tried on, and blushed at herself
in the glass. "But a shower of rain will spoil it," she objected,
nodding the downy white feathers that topped the brim. She was
proceeding philosophically to tie the glossy broad strings in a bow
under her round chin when Miss Jocund stepped hastily to the rescue, and
Mrs. Betts entered with a curtsey, and a blue silk slip on her arm.
"What next?" Bessie demanded of the waiting-woman in rosy consternation.
"I am afraid we must trouble you, Miss Fairfax, but not much, I hope,"
insinuated Miss Jocund with a queer, deprecating humility. "There is a
good half hour to spare. Since Eve put on a little cool foliage, female
dress has developed so extensively that it is necessary to try some
ladies on six times to avoid a misfit. But your figure is perfectly
proportioned, and I resolved, for once, to chance it on my knowledge of
anatomy, supplemented by an embroidered dress from your wardrobe.
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