"It's an Empire modification," remarked Nellie, who discerned the basic neck-waisted feature of the cobweb's architecture. "Lovely short sleeves—"
"Bad for mosquitoes," said Jim.
"Hush!" admonished Gabrielle. "We can't restrict art to such limitations."
"If it really is a cobweb, the mosquitoes won't go near it," said Jim. "Perhaps the designer had that in mind when he cut down the sleeves."
"What a heavy lace insertion—Valenciennes, a good part of it, isn't it, Gabrielle?" asked Mrs. Gibson. "Why, it's simply beyond words, I think."
"Three deep embroidered flounces, and such frills and frills of lace! My! It's grand!" So Nellie believed and declared.
Jim's imagination was not fired. "I hope I never step on it," he said.
"Don't you dare!" commanded Nellie. "This cobweb is meant to catch the eye only—not a whole man."
While Jim was laughing and attempting to thrust his opinions still farther upon the critics, they restored the art treasures to the boxes and placed them in the store-room, where the bride's purchases were gathering day by day as they arrived from the shopping district. Fortunately, the tower was larger than it appears from Broadway, or it would not have held all the packages and allowed the Gibsons room to live.
Nellie had forgotten the dressmaker, but now started, and Mrs. Gibson resumed her household duties in another room.