"Only two day, and all zese yet to be feenish for zat same ball! Much
as I desire, it is not _possible_!"
Every one looked up as the two girls stood for a moment in the
doorway. Miss Shelby glanced around in a coldly indifferent way,
holding up her broadcloth skirt that it might escape the ravellings
and scraps scattered over the floor. She was a tall brunette as
elegantly dressed as any figure in madame's latest Parisian
fashion-plate.
"Why can't you put somebody else off to accommodate me just this
once?" she said. "It is a matter of great importance. My cousin has
already bought the material on my promise that you would make it up
for her. I think you might make a little extra effort in this case,
madame, when you remember that I was one of your first customers, and
that I really brought you half your trade."
The little Frenchwoman wrung her hands. "I _do_ remember,
mademoiselle! Indeed! Indeed! But you see for yourself ze situation.
What can I do?"
"Make some of the women come back at night," answered Miss Shelby,
turning back into the parlour, "and have them take some of the work
home to finish. I'm sure you might be obliging enough to favour me."
Miss Balfour had taken no part in the conversation. She stood beside
her cousin, fully as tall and handsome as she, and resembling her in
both face and figure, but there was something in her expression that
attracted Cicely as much as the other girl had repelled her.
Pages:
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25