“Oh, it will fit well enough, but, Kitty, won’t I be the grown-up! I’ve never worn a real train in my life!”
“Of course it’s a lot too old for you, and truly, I hate to have you appear in a gown like that. But what else can we do? I won’t let you miss the dinner—and after all, it doesn’t matter so much. After this visit I doubt if you’ll ever see these people again, and let them think you’re five or six years older than you are. Who cares?”
“I don’t,” said Patty, gleefully. “I think it will be fun. I’ll have my hair piled high on my head. Can you do it for me, Sarah?”
“Oh, yes, Miss. I’m a hair-dresser and I’m that glad you’re going to dinner.”
CHAPTER VII
FOR ONE NIGHT ONLY
Sarah was indeed an expert hair-dresser, and she piled up Patty’s hair in soft coils, and twisted the curly tendrils into fluffy puffs, and though the result was beautiful, it made Patty look like her own older sister. A jewelled ornament of Lady Hamilton’s crowned the coiffure, and this gave an added effect of dignity. The lace gown was easily made to fit its new wearer. Marie pinned it, and sewed it, and patted it into place, till nobody would suspect it had not been made for Patty. But the long lines of the Princess pattern took away all of Patty’s usual simple girlish appearance, and transformed her at once into a beautiful, queenly young woman. The décolletée corsage, and the sleeves, which were merely frills of lace, were very becoming; and the long train, which billowed into a frou-frou of chiffon ruffles took away the last semblance of a girl of eighteen. Notwithstanding her softly-curved cheeks and throat, and her exquisite, fresh complexion, Patty looked quite the young woman of society and could easily have been adjudged about twenty-four years old.
Her eyes danced, as she walked sedately through the open door and into Lady Hamilton’s room.