The Society Bazaar began to take shape, to approach the days of its holding. Gorgeous gowns of satin and gauze and lace were fashioned for fair débutantes and pretty matrons.
Sweets, china, baskets; the hundred and one things which no one wants and which they must buy at three times the value when ordered.
The Duchess of Boredom would sell baskets. Dollie suggested an idea of diamond-like brilliancy: "Tie a card to every one:
'The Duchess of Boredom,
Boredom Court,'
with just a letter 's' and 'stall' in the corner. Everyone suburban in the room will rush for those baskets, and shop with them for months to come, forgetting, of course, to take off the card. It's perfect," said Dollie, "if she'll do it."
"Or you might have some made in the shape of strawberry leaves," said Bertie, gravely.
The Duchess did not object to her card being used. She was willing to order some hundreds of cards for the sake of charity.
"The Bazaar, of course, paying my stationers," said the Duchess, severely.
There were sweet stalls, where pretty notabilities, for five shillings extra, would sign their names on the boxes.
There was a stall kept by great actresses, who sold their autographs and their photographs, and buttonholes of rosebuds and carnations.