After viewing it critically, Sara in a quiet rapture, and madame with
all a French woman's enthusiasm and epithets, Mrs. Macon said
impulsively,--
"Do try it on, Sara; I'm a little afraid about this skirt; it looks
short in front, and you know she has had to go almost entirely by
measure, so far; here, let me pin the rest of this swan's-down in place,
while you take off your dress."
Sara obeyed without a murmur, feeling all the delight of any young girl
in trying on her first evening gown, while her two tire-women stood by,
patting, punching, pulling, and commenting, as women will, pronouncing
it a perfect fit, and quite long enough. When it was finally adjusted,
they stepped back, and the little madame drew a long breath.
"Ah! but she is beautiful!" she said in her own language; "she might be
one of the old noblesse," while Mrs. Macon, controlling her delight,
remarked,--
"It is becoming, my dear: you have one of those peculiar complexions
dead white only enhances. You look taller, too, a full inch, in that
train. Really, the children ought to see you; let's go down-stairs and
take them by surprise."
Sara, believing them still alone, did not object; and Mrs. Macon, if she
had heard a closing door, and steps through the hall below, did not
think it necessary to mention the circumstance.
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