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"Too much," Aunt Margaret pronounced, clearly referring to the style of
the hat rather than its price, which she hadn't even inquired about yet.
"Something more youthful, with a rolled brim, I think," Aunt Margaret said.
"This style is neat and tasty," the saleswoman said, putting another
hat on Hattie's head. She still sounded calm. By now, though, tiny beads of
perspiration were spangling her brow. "Just a small cluster of violets on
top," she added a little desperately.
Aunt Margaret stared at Hattie's reflection for a full minute in silence, and
then nodded. "Very becoming," she said. "But can your modiste trim it with
a narrow black velvet ribbon, do you think? The child is in mourning, and my
husband seems to think it would be appropriate." And so the sale was made.
Following a hurried chicken-salad lunch at a tea shop on nearby Washington
Square, during which Hattie and Aunt Margaret barely said a word, the entire
afternoon was spent at a small place that sold ladies' lingerie. This
establishment was nondescript from the outside but as fragrant and luxurious
inside as the hatmaker's shop had been. A plump, tightly swaddled saleswoman
welcomed them as if they had happened by for a social call.
Hattie blushed as she removed her dress in the fitting room, ashamed to
reveal her patched drawers and heavy woolen stockings, much darned. Aunt
Margaret and the saleswoman exchanged significant glances. "We might start
with some nice forms," the saleswoman suggested, averting her eyes from
Hattie's painfully stretched ribbed cotton vest. "They're edged with
Valenciennes lace. Thoroughly hygienic," she added, whispering to Aunt
Margaret.
"Naturally," Aunt Margaret said, nodding sharply. "And she'll need some
corsets, of course." Miserable, Hattie folded her arms across her chest."
Our
most popular model is sateen--very elegant. Seventy-five cents," the
saleswoman added, whispering again.
Aunt Margaret looked at the woman coolly for a moment, as if disgusted that
so base a thing as money had been mentioned.
Seventy-five cents, Hattie thought, much shocked. Why, that was near enough
for a family as small as hers had been to live on for a day--or two, if they...
Copyright Sally Warner 2001. Reproduced with the permission of Simon & Schuster. All rights reserved.
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