Lecount, adroitly, "there must be some serious
mistake in the making of your niece's dress. Can you show it to me?"
"Bless your heart--yes!" cried Mrs. Wragge. "Step this way, ma'am; and
bring the gown along with you, please. It keeps sliding off, out of pure
aggravation, if you lay it out on the table. There's lots of room on the
bed in here."
She opened the door of communication and led the way eagerly into
Magdalen's room. As Mrs. Lecount followed, she stole a look at her
watch. Never before had time flown as it flew that morning! In twenty
minutes more Mr. Bygrave would be back from his bath.
"There!" said Mrs. Wragge, throwing open the wardrobe, and taking a
dress down from one of the pegs. "Look there! There's plaits on her
Boasom, and plaits on mine. Six of one and half a dozen of the other;
and mine are the biggest--that's all!"
Mrs. Lecount shook her head gravely, and entered forthwith into
subtleties of disquisition on the art of dressmaking which had the
desired effect of utterly bewildering the proprietor of the Oriental
Cashmere Robe in less than three minutes.
"Don't!" cried Mrs. Wragge, imploringly. "Don't go on like that! I'm
miles behind you; and my head's Buzzing already.
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