"Whew!" Mr. Murden had thought a ten dollar gold piece would have been all-sufficient, and was turning one over in his pocket at the moment. "Why, as much as an overcoat almost."
"And will last twice as long, dear; just remember that."
"Well, well, for once in my life—there's a nice piece of extravagance; but, as you've set your heart upon it, you shall be indulged, Barney. Take them both." And he dropped the two eagles, received that afternoon for what he had considered a bad debt, into her outstretched hand.
It was thus that Mrs. Murden came into possession of her two dollar silk, the envy of her next door neighbor, Mrs. Keyser, her intimate friends, Mrs. Hopkins and Miss Lippincott, to whom it was shown in the piece.
"How are you going to have it made?" asked Mrs. Keyser. "I'd have a basque, by all means, and have it open." Mrs. Keyser was one of those ladies who accomplish so much on a committee of foreign affairs, and so little in the home department.
"Oh, so would I," said Miss Lippincott, who always assented to everything that was said.
"I don't believe a basque would be becoming," enviously interposed Mrs. Hopkins, who was herself remarkably stout and dumpy in figure.
"Perhaps not," said Miss Lippincott; "very likely not."
"I don't believe Miss Johns could fit a basque either," pursued Mrs. Hopkins, who had no intention of being outdone by her neighbor; her dresses were all made for the winter.
"Nor I," added Miss Lippincott.