, an
overwhelming ambition seized upon us to learn to do the same.

"Women ought to know about all house matters," said Eleanor, puckering
her brow to a gloomy extent. "Dressmaking, cookery, and all that sort of
thing; and we know nothing about any of them. I was thinking only last
night, in bed, that if I were cast away on a desert island, and had to
make a dress out of an old sail, I shouldn't have the ghost of an idea
where to begin."

"I should," said I. "I should sew it up like a sack, make three holes
for my head and arms, and tie it round my waist with ship's rope. I
could manage Robinson Crusoe dresses; it's the civilized ones that will
be too much for me, I'm afraid."

"I believe the sail would go twice as far if we could gore it," said
Eleanor, laughing. "But there's no waste like the wastefulness of
ignorance; and oh, Margery, it's the _gores_ I'm afraid of! If skirts
were only made the old-fashioned way, like a flannel petticoat! So many
pieces all alike--run them together--hem the bottom--gather the top--and
there you are, with everything straightforward but the pocket."

To our surprise we found that our new fad was a sore subject with Mrs.
Arkwright. She reproached herself bitterly with having given Eleanor so
little training in domestic arts. But she had been brought up by a
learned uncle, who considered needlework a waste of time, and she knew
as little about gores as we did. She had also, unfortunately, known or
heard of some excellent mother who had trained nine daughters to such
perfection of domestic capabilities that it was boasted that they could
never in after-life employ a workwoman or domestic who would know more
of her business than her employer. And this good lady was a standing
trouble to poor Mrs. Arkwright's conscience.

Her self-reproaches were needless. General training is perhaps quite as
good as (if not better than) special, even for special ends. In giving
us a higher education, in teaching us to use our eyes, our wits, and our
common-sense, she had put all meaner arts within our grasp when need
should urge, and opportunity serve.

"Aunt Theresa was always dressmaking," I said to Eleanor; "but I don't
remember anything that would help us. I was so young, you know. And when
one is young one is so stupid, one really resists information."

I was to have another chance, however, of gleaning hints from Aunt
Theresa.

CHAPTER XXVII.

MATILDA--BALL DRESSES AND THE BALL--GORE