Supper proved to be a cheerless meal. There was no soup, only portions of cold pressed beef and beetroot, and a chilly helping of custard-pudding upon each plate. The cheese was substantial enough, but the section of the dish that held biscuits was empty by the time it reached Lydia, and although she asked Irene for some bread, Irene forgot to bring it.
She went to bed still feeling hungry.
Next morning she was introduced to the establishment of Madame Elena.
“Us girls have to use the side door, of course,” Miss Graham explained. But before they went inside she showed Lydia the front entrance, with “Elena” scrawled in gilt letters above the door, and a small, diamond-paned window that displayed only a gilt chair, over which was flung a brilliant scarlet and gold kimono, and a little gilt stand, on which hung a necklace of green jade, surmounted by a minute hat composed entirely of fluted purple tulle, apparently held together by a jewelled buckle.
“Madame Elena dressed the window herself,” said Miss Graham. “She goes in for colour contrasts.”
Her tone denoted no particular admiration, but Lydia privately was a good deal impressed by the window. Not with this wonderfully effective restraint were the shop fronts decked into which she had hitherto been accustomed to gaze.
She expected Madame Elena to be an æsthetic-looking creature in an artistic smock, and was disappointed at the sight of a very fat, good-natured-faced woman, with an immense mop of auburn hair and a heavily-powdered face. Instead of the art-smock, she wore a tight black skirt, that seemed to emphasize the disproportionate shortness of her legs, and a lace shirt with an elaborate high collar and falling jabot of lace.
“Brought a black dress?” she inquired. “Rosie here will show you where the girls’ dressing-room is, and where you can leave your things. You change here, of course. What about shoes and stockings?”
She shook her head at Lydia’s black Oxford shoes.
“Get a pair of court slippers at lunch-time. Rosie will tell you where to go. Stockings don’t matter, as you’ll be behind your desk all the time. You needn’t worry about corsets, either, not being a model. Now go and change, then you can come back to me here, and we’ll go through the books together and give you some idea of your job.”