“Do you know, I really don’t feel inclined to grumble,” she said, “especially now that I’ve got more to do I do find looking after these girls very interesting indeed.”
“You’re a prig,” said Stasy—“a prig or a saint; I’ve not yet made up my mind which.”
Blanche took no notice.
“Stasy,” she said, “I have got an idea in my head. It’s not quite a new one; some one proposed it before; but I can’t manage it unless you’ll help me, you’re so much cleverer about that sort of thing than I am.”
“What sort of thing?” said Stasy.
“Things that require neat-handedness and taste. It’s a millinery class for the girls I’m thinking of. It would be such a surprise to Lady Hebe when she comes back, to see them with neat, pretty hats. It is just the time they’re getting their summer ones, and they do wear such awful things.”
“And I daresay they pay a lot for them, too,” said Stasy.
“No doubt they do,” said Blanche; “and I don’t suppose one of them has the slightest idea of trimming anything neatly.”
Stasy was silent for a moment; then she said, with a little hesitation: “You’re very complimentary about my taste, Blanchie. But as to the actual work, I’m afraid I should not be much good. I know nothing about what may be called the ‘technique’ of the business. I couldn’t line or bind a hat neatly, for instance.”
“I’ve thought of that,” said Blanche eagerly; and, indeed, a great part of her interest in this new idea had to do with the occupation and amusement she had hoped it would give her sister. “I’ve thought about that, and I feel pretty sure that little Miss Halliday would help us. I’m going to Blissmore this afternoon, and I mean to ask her if she would teach us a little. Two or three lessons would give us all we need.”