“Me,” she cried out, like a child in her eagerness. “I want it, Miss Darmeer. Here’s the four dollars!”
Her spending money for weeks was poured extravagantly into Zelda’s hand, and the wonderful gown was thrown lightly over her trembling arm.
For a little while at least—until the gorgeous thing actually dropped to pieces—she would appear as well-dressed, as beautiful and as fragile as the other girls, with her hitherto covered shoulders glistening charmingly into view and her arms bare and bright almost to the shoulder.
At this moment Gloria came in from her own room, her fair face flushed, and her arms laden. There was a curious hauteur, that was foreign to her accustomed manner, clinging about her, somehow.
And the very first thing that she put up was the wonderful suit of Belgian blue!
As she mounted the swaying pile of cushions, her expression never softened to the hilarity that the occasion had held up till now.
The light gleamed over the wonderful blue of the thing in her arms.
“A suit,” she began, in that voice the freshmen worshipped, “a blue suit. Tailored to fit me. Do for any tall girl. The lining is, as you see, a good quality taffeta,” she turned the coat conscientiously inside out, “and a blue silk underskirt goes with the skirt. I’ve worn this three times. I don’t think very many people saw it, for it was only to chapel and vespers and——”
A laugh interrupted her. That was rather scathing of her, those of her classmates who were present thought. For they were required to attend chapel and vespers and didn’t like the implication that they neglected their duty.
“Kaddie,” whispered Peggy, “do you suppose she’s got so many clothes—that—that three wearings is—enough?”