"See here, Adelaide," remarked Witch Winnie, "if you want something really fine, get that Mrs. Halsey to design it for you."
"You don't suppose that I would hire a dress for the concert at a costumer's?"
"I didn't say that; you could have it made wherever you pleased, but get Mrs. Halsey's ideas on the subject; they are really remarkable."
Adelaide considered the subject and acted upon it, but, greatly to my relief, she refused to do so without explaining the entire affair to Madame.
"I'll not stand in the way of your having a nice gown," said Witch Winnie. "Come, Tib, let's confess."
I was overjoyed, and Madame, though duly shocked, was not severe. She even allowed Witch Winnie to take Adelaide to see Mrs. Halsey, stipulating only that she should be chaperoned by one of the teachers. Adelaide chose Miss Sartoris, at my suggestion, both because we liked her, and from my feeling that her artistic instinct might be of service.
The girls were disappointed to find that Mrs. Halsey was no longer at the costumer's. He had "pounced" her, he said, because she was "too much of a lady for de peesness." Fortunately he could give the girls her address—No. 1, sixth floor, Rickett's Court.
It was a very disagreeable part of town. Miss Sartoris looked doubtful as they approached it, and was on the point of getting into the carriage again as they alighted, but Witch Winnie had already darted through a long dark hall which led to the court in the centre of the block, and there was nothing for it but to follow.
Evil smells nearly choked them as they ran the gauntlet of that hall, and they were no better off on emerging upon the sloppy court. The space overhead, between the buildings, was laced with an intricate network of clothes-lines filled with garments. Adelaide said she realized now where all upper New York had its laundry work done, for this was evidently not the wash of the court people. From their appearance it was only fair to conjecture that they were so busy doing other people's washing that they never had time for their own. The dirty water seemed to be thrown from the windows into the court, where it stood in puddles or feebly trickled into the sewer, from which emanated nauseous and deadly gases. Sickly children were dabbling in these puddles.
"It makes me think of Hood's 'Lost Heir,'" said Miss Sartoris—