how her little brother was, and how she liked studying at
home. She was ashamed to show in their presence anything but a casual,
dignified interest in the goods they handled.

After these feeble and diluted tipplings, her day with Aunt Victoria
was like a huge draught of raw spirits. That much-experienced shopper
led her a leisurely course up one dazzling aisle and down another,
pausing ruthlessly to look and to handle and to comment, even if she
had not the least intention of buying. With an inimitable ease
of manner she examined whatever took her fancy, and the languid,
fashionably dressed salesladies, all in aristocratic black, showed to
these whims a smiling deference, which Sylvia knew could come
from nothing but the exquisite tailoring of Aunt Victoria's blue
broadcloth. This perception did not in the least lower her opinion of
the value of the deference. It heightened her opinion of the value of
tailoring.

They stood by glass tables piled high with filmy and costly underwear,
such underwear as Sylvia had never dreamed could exist, and Aunt
Victoria looked casually at the cobweb tissues which the saleswoman
held up, herself hankering in a hungry adoration of the luxury she
would never touch in any other way. Without apology or explanation,
other than Aunt Victoria's gracious nod of dismissal, they moved on
to the enchanted cave where, under the stare of innumerable electric
lights, evening wraps were exhibited. The young woman who served them
held the expensive, fragile chiffon of the garments up in front of her
black uniform, her eyes wistful and unsatisfied. Her instant of glory
was over when Aunt Victoria bought one of these, exclaiming humorously
about the quaintness of going from Paris to Chicago to shop. It was of
silver tissue over white brocade, with a collar of fur, and the price
was a hundred and thirty-seven dollars. Sylvia's allowance for all her
personal expenses for a whole year was a hundred and twenty. To
reach the furniture, they passed by, with an ignoring contempt, huge
counters heaped with hundreds and hundreds of shirt-waists, any one of
which was better than the one Sylvia had made with so much care and
interest before leaving home.

Among the furniture they made a long stay. Aunt Victoria was
unexpectedly pleased by the design of the wicker pieces, and
bought and bought and bought; till Sylvia turned her head away in
bewilderment. She looked down a long perspective of glittering
show-ca