“Just a glance at the silks. You ask my opinion about white ones,
and I’ll look at the colors. Mama says satin, but that is out now,
and I’ve set my heart on the heaviest corded thing I can find,”
whispered Kitty as they went rustling by the long counters strewn
with all that could delight the feminine eye and tempt the feminine
pocket.
“Isn’t that opal the loveliest thing you ever saw? I’m afraid I’m too
dark to wear it, but it would just suit you. You’ll need a variety,
you know,” added Kitty in a significant aside as Rose stood among
the white silks while her companion affected great interest in the
delicate hues laid before her.
“But I have a variety now, and don’t need a new dress of any sort.?
“No matter, get it, else it will be gone. You’ve worn all yours
several times already and must have a new one whether you need it
or not. Dear me! If I had as much pocket money as you have, I’d
come out in a fresh toilet at every party I went to,” answered Kitty,
casting an envious eye upon the rainbow piles before her.
The quick-witted shopman saw that a wedding was afoot, for when
two pretty girls whisper, smile, and blush over their shopping,
clerks scent bridal finery and a transient gleam of interest
brightens their imperturbable countenances and lends a brief
energy to languid voices weary with crying, “Cash!” Gathering
both silks with a practiced turn of the hand, he held them up for
inspection, detecting at a glance which was the bride-elect and
which the friend, for Kitty fell back to study the effect of silvery
white folds with an absorbing interest impossible to mistake while
Rose sat looking at the opal as if she scarcely heard a bland voice
saying, with the rustle of silk so dear to girlish ears: “A superb
thing, just opened; all the rage in Paris; very rare shade; trying to
most, as the lady says, but quite perfect for a blonde.?
Rose was not listening to those words but to others which Aunt
Clara had lately uttered, laughed at then, but thought over more
than once since.
“I’m tired of hearing people wonder why Miss Campbell does not
dress more. Simplicity is all very well for schoolgirls and women
who can’t afford anything better, but you can, and you really ought.
Your things are pretty enough in their way, and I rather like you to
have a style of your own, but it looks odd and people will think
you are mean if you don’t make more show. Besides, you don’t do
justice to your beauty, which would be both peculiar and striking if
you’d devote your mind to getting up ravishing costumes.?
Much more to the same effect did her aunt say, discussing the
subject quite artistically and unconsciously appealing to several of
Rose’s ruling passions. One was a love for the delicate fabrics,
colors, and ornaments which refined tastes enjoy and whose
costliness keeps them from ever growing common; another, her
strong desire to please the eyes of those she cared for and gratify
their wishes in the smallest matter if she could. And last, but not
least, the natural desire of a young and pretty woman to enhance
the beauty which she so soon discovers to be her most potent
charm for the other sex, her passport to a high place among her
maiden peers.
She had thought seriously of surprising and delighting everyone by
appearing in a costume which should do justice to the loveliness
which was so modest that it was apt to forget itself in admiring
others what girls call a “ravishing” dress, such as she could
imagine and easily procure by the magic of the Fortunatus’ purse in
her pocket. She had planned it all, the shimmer of pale silk
through lace like woven frostwork, ornaments of some classic
pattern, and all the dainty accessories as perfect as time, taste, and
money could make them.
She knew that Uncle Alec’s healthful training had given her a
figure that could venture on any fashion and Nature blessed her
with a complexion that defied all hues. So it was little wonder that