She gasped at the very idea of such a thing. The condition of the chiffon gown that Zelda had sold was more like her own things by the time she had done with them. She could not fancy any one parting with something they had scarcely become even used to yet.
“Maybe it isn’t becoming to her.”
“Oh, Kaddie!”
Katherine looked again at the figure of Gloria with her blue burden over her arm and saw that she had spoken carelessly.
The blue of the suit brought out the blue of the eyes in a dazzling fashion. The triumphant red and gold of Gloria’s hair and eye-lashes flamed more like those of a Norse goddess than ever.
“What am I offered? I can’t advertise”—(the ghost of a smile did quirk her lips here for an instant)—“as Zelda did, that this suit has known only happy times. It’s—had to take its chances. But such as it is—it’s ready for your offers.”
She stood expectantly, the suit lifted a little on her arm.
“Twenty-five,” lazily called a senior from the back of the room.
“I’m offered twenty-five,” said the auctioneer, “and I’m—still listening.”
“Thirty,” piped Hazel Pilcher eagerly.