I hear that in Paris the popular gown for the early spring for ordinary wear will be black serge; this is made as a coat or Directoire coat bodice, braided or not as is preferred, in fact made in any way that seems suitable to everyday use. The best gown as I have said is of some light-hued cloth, and for best summer wear the thin grenadines over silk are most fashionable as well as the most useful of dresses. So there is no doubt as to the gowns that will be wanted. The next thing to consider is what are the requirements of our own wardrobes, and what can we do without, alter, or purchase for the coming season.
[ABOUT PEGGY SAVILLE.]
By JESSIE MANSERGH (Mrs. G. de Horne Vaizey), Author of “Sisters Three,” etc.
CHAPTER XXV.
“Convalescence,” remarked Peggy elegantly, a week later on, “convalescence is a period not entirely devoid of compensation!” She was lying on a sofa in her bedroom at the Larches, wrapped in her white dressing-gown, and leaning against a nest of pink silk cushions; and what with a table drawn up by her side laden with grapes and jelly, a pile of Christmas numbers lying by her side, and the presence of an audience consisting of Rosalind, Lady Darcy and Mrs. Asplin, ready to listen admiringly to her conversation, and to agree enthusiastically with every word she uttered, it did indeed seem as if the position was one which might be endured with fortitude! Many were the questions which had been showered upon her since her return to consciousness, and the listeners never grew tired of listening to her account of the accident. How Rosalind had clutched too carelessly at the slender candlestick so that it had fallen forward, setting the gauze dress in flames, and how she herself had flown out of the room, torn down the curtains which draped the “harem” and had flung them round the frantic, struggling figure. There were a dozen questions which they were longing to ask, but the remembrance of that tragic evening seemed to excite the little invalid, so that for the present they remained unspoken.
With every day that passed, however, Peggy gained more strength, and was petted to her heart’s content by everyone in the house. The old lord kissed her fondly on the cheek and murmured, “God reward you, my brave girl, for I never can.” Lady Darcy shed tears every morning when the burns were dressed, and said; “Oh, Peggy dear, forgive me for being cross, and do, do be sure to use the lotion for your arms regularly every day when you get better!” and the big Doctor chucked her under the chin and cried,
“Well, ‘Fighting Saville,’ and how are we to-day? You are the pluckiest little patient I’ve had for a long time. I’ll say that for you! Let’s have another taste of the rack!”... It was all most agreeable and soothing to one’s feelings!
One of the first questions Peggy asked after her return to consciousness was as to how much her father and mother had been told of her accident, and whether the news had been sent by letter or cable.
“By letter, dear,” Mrs. Asplin replied. “We talked it over very carefully, and concluded that that would be best. You know, dearie, we were very, very anxious about you for a few days, but the doctor said that it would be useless cabling to your mother, because if all went well you would be up again before she could arrive, and if—if it had gone the other way, Peggy, she could not have been in time. I sent her a letter, and I have written every mail since, and now we are going to calculate the time when the first letter will arrive, and send a cable to say that you are quite out of danger, and sitting up, and getting hungrier and more mischievous with every day as it passes!”