“What could I do then, my dear young lady, but speak up and say the best I could for you? for though Mrs. Trimmings is not high,—not one of the gentry, I mean,—and has a rough tongue sometimes, still she knows what good stuff and good cutting-out means, and a word from her might do you a power of good among the townfolks, for her gowns are always after the best patterns.”
“All right!” returned Phillis, cheerfully: “one must creep before one runs, and, until the gentry employ us, we ought to think ourselves fortunate to work for the townpeople. I am not a bit above making a dress for Mrs. Trimmings, though I would rather make one for you, Miss Milner, because you have been so kind to us.”
“There, now! didn’t I say there never were such young ladies!” exclaimed Miss Milner, quite affected at this. “Well, if you are sure you don’t mind, Miss Challoner dear, will you please go to Mrs. Trimmings’s this morning? for though I told her my dress was to be finished first, still Trimmings’s isn’t a stone’s-throw from here; and you may as well settle a thing when you are about it.”
“And I will take the silk, Miss Milner, if you will kindly let me have a nice piece of brown paper.”
“Indeed and you will do no such thing, Miss Challoner; and there is Joseph going down with the papers to Mr. Drummond’s, and will leave it at the Friary as he passes.”
“Oh, thank you,” observed Phillis, gratefully. “Then I will pencil a word to my sister, to let her know why I am detained.” And she scrawled a line to Nan:
“Trimmings, not Squails: here beginneth the first chapter. Expect me when you see me, and do nothing until I come.”
There was no side-door at Trimmings’s, and Mrs. Trimmings was at the desk, jotting down legs of mutton, and entries of gravy-beef and suet, with a rapidity that would have tried the brain of any other woman than a butcher’s wife.
When Phillis approached, she looked up at her suavely, expecting custom.
“Just half a moment, ma’am,” she said, civilly. “Yes, Joe, wing-rib and half of suet to Mrs. Penfold, and a loin of lamb and sweet-bread for No. 12, Albert Terrace. Now, ma’am, what can I do for you?”