CHAPTER IV
THE GRACE OF ENDEAVOR
The door of Mrs. Boyd’s room stood partly open. Louie Howe gave a light tap and marched in with an air that was rather insolent.
“Oh, Mrs. Boyd, I’ve given my walking dress such an awful tear! Mrs. Barrington said she was quite sure you could mend it. You see I’m going to a sort of musicale in about an hour and I couldn’t take it to the tailors. It’s my best suit, too, and—it must be done very neatly.”
Mrs. Boyd examined it. “Yes, it’s pretty bad, I’ve done worse though, and part of it will be under the plait. Let me see if I have the right color.”
She opened a box of spools and took up several colors to match.
“Oh, yes, here is one,” and she gave a smile of gratification.
Louie dropped into a chair. Was she going to wait? Lilian wondered.