"Oh, but it is, beside the dress, that figure," says she, a-spreading her hands.
After all, the girl did manage to express herself. I was sorry for not understanding her at first.
Before I could say this, Cousin E. E. got out of patience.
"Does the dress suit? for we have no time to throw away," says she.
"Suit," says I, turning round and round with slow enjoyment of that queenly figure in the glass. "Of course it does. Why, cousin, it is superb; the bunching up is stupendous. Then the pattern—a whole flower garden in full bloom."
"Then it had better be sent home at once, for we must go early in the morning," says she, short as pie crust.
I paid for that Dolly Varden with satisfaction. It might have been dear—I think it was, but there were no extras, and I knew what I was about from the first. Besides it was a smashing affair, rain-bowish, beautifully puckered up, and blazing with flowers.
Well, we went into the street, and then Cousin E. E. began:
"One minute, Phœmie; I want some hair pins."
We went into the next door and got the hair pins, then out again. After walking about fifty feet she broke out once more: