ure, hurried toward Faber Street, which was already
thronging with people. It was bright here and gay, the shops glittered,
and she wandered from window to window until she found herself staring at
a suit of blue cloth hung on a form, beneath which was a card that read,
"Marked down to $20." And suddenly the suggestion flashed into her mind,
why shouldn't she buy it? She had the money, she needed a new suit for
the winter, the one she possessed was getting shabby...but behind the
excuse of necessity was the real reason triumphantly proclaiming
itself--she would look pretty in it, she would be transformed, she would
be buying a new character to which she would have to live up. The old
Janet would be cast off with the old raiment; the new suit would announce
to herself and to the world a Janet in whom were released all those
longings hitherto disguised and suppressed, and now become insupportable!
This was what the purchase meant, a change of existence as complete as
that between the moth and the butterfly; and the realization of this
fact, of the audacity she was resolved to commit made her hot as she
gazed at the suit. It was modest enough, yet it had a certain distinction
of cut, it looked expensive: twenty dollars was not cheap, to be sure,
but as the placard announced, it had the air of being much more
costly--even more costly than thirty dollars, which seemed fabulous.
Though she strove to remain outwardly calm, her heart beat rapidly as she
entered the store and asked for the costume, and was somewhat reassured
by the comportment of the saleswoman, who did not appear to think the
request preposterous, to regard her as a spendthrift and a profligate.
She took down the suit from the form and led Janet to a cabinet in the
back of the shop, where it was tried on.

"It's worth every bit of thirty dollars," she heard the woman say, "but
we've had it here for some time, and it's no use for our trade. You can't
sell anything like that in Hampton, there's no taste here, it's too good,
it ain't showy enough. My, it fits you like it was made for you, and it's
just your style--and you can see it wants a lady to wear it. Your old
suit is too tight--I guess you've filled out some since you bought it."

She turned Janet around and around, patting the skirt here and there, and
then stood off a little way, with clasped hands, her expression almost
rapturous. Janet's breath came fast as she gazed into the mirror and
buttoned up the