'That can't be helped. If you go into society you must be properly dressed. We'll go to Clanricarde Place directly after luncheon, and see what that old harpy has to show us.'
Lesbia had a rather uncomfortable feeling about facing the fair Seraphine, without being able to give her a cheque upon account of that dreadful bill. She had quite accepted Lady Kirkbank's idea that bills never need be discharged in full, and that the true system of finance was to give an occasional cheque on account, as a sop to Cerberus. True, that while Cerberus fattened on the sops the bill seemed always growing; and the final crash, when Cerberus grew savage and sops could be no more accepted, was too awful to be thought about.
Lesbia entered Seraphine's Louis-seize drawing-room with a faint expectation of unpleasantness; but after a little whispering between Lady Kirkbank and the dressmaker, the latter came to Lesbia smiling graciously, and seemingly full of eagerness for new orders.
'Miladi says you want something of the most original—tant soit peu risqué—for 'Enley,' she said. 'Let us see now,' and she tapped her forehead with a gold thimble which nobody had ever seen her use, but which looked respectable. 'There is ze dresses that Chaumont wear in zis new play, Une Faute dans le Passé. Yes, zere is the watare dress—a boating party at Bougival, a toilet of the most new, striking, écrasant, what you English call a "screamer."'
'What a genius you are, Fifine,' exclaimed Lady Kirkbank, rapturously. 'The Faute dans le Passé was only produced last week. No one will have thought of copying Chaumont's gowns yet awhile. The idea is an inspiration.'
'What is the boating costume like?' asked Lady Lesbia, faintly.
'An exquisite combination of simplicity with élan,' answered the dressmaker. 'A skin-tight indigo silk Jersey bodice, closely studded with dark blue beads, a flounced petticoat of indigo and amber foulard, an amber scarf drawn tightly round the hips, and a dark blue toque with a large bunch of amber poppies. Tan-coloured mousquetaire gloves, and Hessian boots of tan-coloured kid.'
'Hessian boots!' ejaculated Lesbia.
'But, yes, Miladi. The petticoat is somewhat short, you comprehend, to escape the damp of the deck, and, after all, Hessians are much less indelicate than silk stockings, legs à cru, as one may say.'
'Lesbia, you will look enchanting in yellow Hessians,' said Lady Kirkbank, 'Let the dress be put in hand instantly, Seraphine.'