“I hate the rôle of a pretended benefactress. I should shrink from such an imputation. Lovely little creature! how elegant she would look in a ruby velvet, with duchess lace! And she shall have it! Yes, that she shall! And I will take the risk of being snubbed and stood in a corner for my impertinence.” The outcome of the lady’s resolution was this: After she had set down Palma at the Stuarts’ apartments, and taken Judy home to the Walling house, she set out on a second shopping expedition. The same night, while Stuart was taking his usual walk up and down the pavement before the house, and Palma sat in her little room stitching fresh edges on frayed collars and cuffs, one of Lovelace & Silkman’s young ladies arrived at the apartment home, followed by a boy with a large bandbox, and asked for Mrs. Cleve Stuart. She was brought up in the elevator and ushered into the presence of Palma, who arose to receive the unexpected visitor, staring a little. The stranger merely nodded to the lady, then, without any preface, she took the bandbox from the boy, set it on a chair, untied, unwrapped and opened it, and took from it a glorious suit of dark, bright blue damassé velvet, trimmed with satin, and spread it over a chair, saying: “If it is convenient, I would like to have you try it on now, ma’am, so that I may make any alterations that may be necessary before I leave.” “But I——” began the wondering Palma, when she was suddenly interrupted by the dressmaker exclaiming: “Oh! I beg your pardon! I forgot!” And she handed a note addressed to Mrs. Cleve Stuart. Palma took it in perplexity, opened it, and read: “Beauty to the beautiful! To Palma Stuart, with the true love of Augusta Walling.” Palma was touched, melted, delighted all at once. She had never had, nor ever expected to have, so superb a dress. She was but a child in some things. She could not speak for surprise, gratitude and embarrassment. But the matter-of-fact young woman from the suit department of Lovelace & Silkman’s went on to say: “We were very sorry that we had not a ruby velvet made up, but the lady who gave us your order said that there would be no time to make up one, and she selected this; and I really think, madam, that this shade of mazarine blue will be quite as becoming to your brunette style as garnet or ruby.” “It is beautiful! It could not be more beautiful!” exclaimed Palma. “Will you try it on now?” Palma arose and the dressmaker helped to relieve her of her cashmere dress and induct her into the velvet. But slight alteration was necessary—the front breadth shortened, the sleeves shortened, the side seams of the waist taken in—that was all. The young dressmaker laid off her hat and her wraps, and took from her little hand-bag needle, sewing silk, scissors and thimble, and sat down to work.