could get into it by herself. Easier said than
done, you can believe. She'd worn it twice, and both times they'd had
words, and some of 'em were swear words, too. Well, I did the best I
could by the dress, but it was too late to save the day. You see she'd
taken such comfort in thinking how grateful he was, that she hadn't
minded what she'd given up herself, but after that, things was
different. She went back to the city in less than a year. I think
she's a cashier in some restaurant. She couldn't get her old place in
the glove store."

Young Mrs. Thompson had a bright idea. "Couldn't you put a row of
buttons down the back, just for looks, and then hook it under the lace,
same as you said?"

"Easiest thing in the world," Persis assured her. The domestic peace
of the Thompson family was preserved for the time being, though neither
woman guessed for how brief a period.

Annabel Sinclair was thoroughly out of temper when the time for her
fitting came, though she paid Persis the compliment of making a
whole-hearted effort to conceal her feelings. Persis Dale was one of
the few of whom Annabel stood in awe. Behind her back she frequently
referred to the dressmaker as an "interfering old maid," but in Persis'
presence she paid reluctant tribute to the dominating personality. When
very angry, Annabel indulged in whatever brutalities of plain speech
were suggested by a somewhat limited imagination, but her habitual
weapon was innuendo. She shrank from Persis' bluntness as a dog
cringes away from a whip.

When young Mrs. Thompson had hurried off to the brand-new cottage on
the hill, Annabel concealed her annoyance under a smile, inquired after
Joel's health and yielded to Persis' opinion with flattering deference.
But Persis' mood was not merciful.

"How your Diantha is growing, Mis' Sinclair. She must have left you
way behind before this."

Annabel winced. She had long been in the habit of referring to Diantha
as "my little girl." Of late she had fancied that her listeners looked
amused at her choice of a qualifying adjective.

"It's such a pity," she answered in her softest voice, "for a child to
grow that way. People expect so much more of tall children."

"Well, girls often get their growth by the time they're Diantha's age.
Let's see. She must be six--"

"I believe that seam twists," Annabel exclaimed. She chose her
criticism at random with the sole purpose of distracting Persis'
attention bef