"Why, you only ordered it on Friday," remarked Miss Graham. "I should not think she could possibly make it in so short a time."
"No, I did not give her very long, certainly," replied the young lady. "But I told her I must have it to-day, and she promised me I should. What is the matter, Theresa? Why do you look so grave? Are you meditating giving me a lecture on my extravagance?"
"It would not be of much use, I fear," returned her cousin, with a smile. "Your words made me think of the young girl to whom I took my father this evening. She used to work for a dressmaker, but lost her situation because she would not consent to work on Sunday. It was a great trouble to her, poor girl. She could not get any one else to employ her, and going about from place to place, in all sorts of weather, she caught a severe cold, which terminated in this illness: from which I much fear she will never recover."
"Poor girl! How very sad!" observed her companion. "But why should my words remind you of her? You don't suppose, I hope, that I should wish to make any one work on Sunday?"
"I don't think any lady would be so selfish as to wish it, if the question were put to her," replied Miss Graham. "But when so many insist upon having their orders executed with all speed, the dressmaker feels forced to make time somehow, and is tempted to encroach upon the only day of rest that her apprentices can ever enjoy."
"But what is one to do? One must be properly dressed," returned the young lady, glancing complacently at her elegant attire. "Excuse me, Cousin Theresa, but you can't expect every one to be so indifferent to dress as yourself, or to adopt your Quaker-like simplicity."
"Nay, you need not apologise," replied her cousin, with perfect good temper. "I feel flattered by your remark, for, excepting the poke bonnet, I rather admire the style adopted by Quaker ladies. But surely one can be properly dressed without requiring a new dress for every occasion, especially if it can only be obtained at the cost of suffering to others. In such a case we ought, I think, for the sake of our poorer sisters, to deny ourselves the gratification of appearing in the latest fashion."
"But surely we help them by giving them plenty of employment. A liberal expenditure in dress must be good for trade."
"Not necessarily," replied Miss Graham. "It has been proved often enough that the extravagance of the rich can only exert a baneful influence upon the condition of the poor. The habits of the upper classes are imitated by those beneath them, and inexpressible sin and misery are often the result. If ladies were more considerate towards those they employ, and more anxious to influence them aright, young workwomen would not be exposed to the terrible temptations by which many are overcome."
Miss Graham would have said more, for the subject was one on which she had thought and felt much, and she was moreover well acquainted with the circumstances of the class for which she pleaded, but she was here interrupted by the entrance of her father.