"Shut your eyes, Mollie, while Madame dresses you up," Harriet proposed.
Mollie shut her eyes tightly.
Madame Louise slipped on the gown. "It fits to perfection," she whispered to Harriet. Then the dressmaker, who was really an artist in her line, picked up Mollie's bunch of soft yellow curls and knotted them carelessly on top of Mollie's dainty head. She twisted a piece of the pale blue shaded chiffon into a bandeau around her gold hair.
"Now, look at yourself, Mademoiselle," she cried in triumph.
"Mollie, Mollie, you are the prettiest thing in the world!" Harriet exclaimed.
Mollie gave a little gasp of astonishment when she beheld herself in the mirror. Certainly she looked like Cinderella after the latter had been touched with the fairy wand. She stood regarding herself with wide open eyes of astonishment, and cheeks in which the rose flush deepened.
"The dress must belong to Mademoiselle! I could not have made such a fit if I had tried," repeated the dressmaker.
"How much is the dress worth, Madame?" Harriet queried.
"Worth? It is worth one hundred and fifty dollars! But I will give the little frock away for fifty," the dressmaker answered.
"Can't you possibly buy it, child?" Harriet pleaded with Mollie. "It is a perfectly wonderful bargain, and you are too lovely in it. I just can't bear to have you refuse it."