“No, we haven’t seen you. How is this business, Claire, is it thriving, making money?”
“O, we get along, aunt,” said the radiant niece in a tone of almost perverse amiability. “I have several assistants. Do you know, we made seven of the costumes for this ball—seven—one of them for a man.”
“I thought ladies only made for ladies.”
“So did I, but this order just dropped in upon us very mysteriously, and we did it, from top to toe, a most gorgeous arrangement, all crimson and purple and silver and citron, but I haven’t seen anybody wearing it yet. I wonder if you have? I’m so disappointed. It’s a sultan, or a nabob, or a nankipoo of some kind, I am certain it was for this ball. I was so anxious to see it worn. I had made up my mind to dance at least half the dances with the wearer, it was so lovely. Have you seen such a costume here?”
“No,” said the aunt grimly, “I have not, but I have noticed the pirate king—did you make his costume too? I hope not!”
“O no, aunt,” laughed Claire, “isn’t he a fright?”
“Who is he?”
“That? O, a friend of mine, a business friend.”
“He seems fond of you.”
“I have known him some time. Yes, I like him. Don’t you like my pirate king?” asked Claire, turning to her two cousins.