“Why bad taste?” asked Zay. “I thought it fine.”
“She might have been a little more modest. You see, my dear child, we are not preparing for teachers nor to vulgarly distinguish ourselves. I thought Miss Grayson did not quite like it. Are you really growing fond of your double? But I can’t imagine you standing up in that bold fashion.”
Zay was silent. It always annoyed her to have Miss Boyd called her double. The figure and manner was so different. Zay was so light and airy, she seemed rather to skim over space than to walk, and every motion was replete with grace, while Miss Boyd was stately, and when critical eyes were upon her, sometimes seemed awkward.
Miss Nevins certainly was improving. Thanks to Mrs. Barrington’s regimen her complexion had cleared up, she kept her hair in a tidier fashion. May Gedney had insisted upon her wearing something beside the dismal browns.
“Send this to your dressmaker and have a green suit trimmed with bands of gray fur—if it won’t be too extravagant.”
“Oh, father will pay the bill. He hasn’t much idea of what things cost.”
“See here—I know a lovely dressmaker in Livingston. I sometimes go there. Mrs. Barrington would let us go over with Miss Davis, I am sure, and as she keeps samples we could choose, and she could take your measure. I don’t believe it would cost half as much, and will be prettier. Your clothes are too old.”
“Oh, you are an angel,” and May had to submit to an embrace.
Mrs. Barrington agreed. She gave Miss Nevins some money.
“As they are going on your business you must pay their expenses,” she said.