ook charge of Rose and delivered her,
presently, unconscious of intervening processes, at the counter where
the forms were sold. She selected what she wanted instantly, and counted
out the money from her own purse. She didn't have to dip into John
Galbraith's hundred and twenty dollars for this.

"Address?" inquired the saleswoman preparing to make out her sales-slip.
Then, as Rose didn't answer instantly, she looked up frowning into her
face. "You want it sent, don't you?" she added.

The question was rhetorical, because with its standard, the thing stood
five feet high and weighed twenty-five pounds.

A frown of perplexity in Rose's face gave way to her own wide smile. "I
guess I'll have to take it with me," she said. Because as near
Christmas as this, the thing mightn't be delivered for two days.

"Take it with you?" the woman echoed, aghast.

"Have it wrapped up," said Rose decisively, "and put my name on
it--Mrs. ..." She checked herself with another smile. She had nearly
said, "Mrs. Rodney Aldrich." But the mistake didn't hurt as it would
have hurt yesterday. "Doris Dane," she went on. "And have it sent down
to the main entrance. I'll be there as soon as it is. Do you know where
I can buy paper cambric?" But she had to get that information from
another floor-walker.

Paper cambric seemed to have more of a bearing upon the approach of
Christmas Day than dressmaking forms, though just what the connection
was, Rose couldn't make out. There was a crowd at the counter, anyhow.
It was five minutes before she could get waited on. But once she caught
a saleswoman's eye, her purchase was quickly made. She bought three
bolts: one of black, one of white, and one of a washed-out blue. Once
more she counted out the money, and this time, "I'll take it with me,"
she said.

Strong as she was, the immense bundle was almost more than she could
carry. But she managed to make her way at last to the main entrance,
where, under the incredulous eye of the doorman, she found a porter
waiting with her dressmaking form.

"That's mine," she said. "Doris Dane is the name on it." Then, to the
doorman as the porter made off, "Will you get me a cab?"

But this particular store had, quite naturally, no facilities for doing
a carriage business, a fact which the doorman laconically explained.

"All right," said Rose dumping her heavy bundle beside the dressmaking
form. "You won't mind keeping an eye on this for a minute, will you?"
She