But Miss Elbert feigned entire ignorance of its reception. "Mrs. Murden--she could not remember the name." And a bustle of search ensued, while the forewoman from the work-room made her appearance for orders, bringing skirts and waists of such rich and dazzling materials as Mrs. Murden had never dreamed of, while she trembled for the fate of her own precious purple. Two errand girls, charity children they looked like, with their little sharp, thin faces and faded shawls, were dispatched to match buttons, and gimps, and galloons, with handsful of patterns, and heads full of instructions, which last did not stay where they were put, which accounted for Miss Lawrence appearing at the Thursday ball with yellow fringe on a lemon-colored dress, and Mrs. Johnson Rogers finding her gray silk--she was in half mourning for the late lamented Mr. Johnson Rogers--decorated by brown velvet acorn buttons. However, both passed for Parisian novelties, and were greatly admired; so Miss Stringer, and not the stupid errand girls, who came back too late to admit of a change, received the credit of these novel decorations. Much to Mrs. Murden's relief, the silk was at last forthcoming, from an out-of-the-way drawer, and she awaited with inward satisfaction Miss Stringer's inspection. But two-dollar silks were everyday bread and butter to that lady, who merely glanced at it, and tossed the package upon a neighboring sofa, as if it had been so many yards of crash towelling. "Very good quality," she remarked. "You got it at Evans & Gilman's. Trying to most complexions. _What now_, Miss Elbert? No, I shall not _touch_ Mrs. Cadwalader's dress before Monday. Tell her she can wear her white _moire d'antique_; she's only worn it twice this season to my knowledge. Tell her to wear her Honiton scarf, and no one will know what kind of a dress she has on. That will do, Mrs.--I beg your pardon--Mudon. You can come again on Thursday week. How will you have it trimmed?" Mrs. Murder did not venture to suggest a trimming, and prudently left the whole matter to Miss Stringer's abler hands. Prudently, in one sense; she had never seen a bill from a fashionable shop, recollect. She had been just about to inquire what Miss Stringer would charge. Fortunate escape! The question would have been met with paralyzing coldness. It is a risk to procure your own trimming; but to seek to place a limit as to ultimate expense--unpardonable in the eyes of an autocrat of fashion. So Mrs. Murden departed very much cast down, and very insignificant in her cashmere dress and the fur she had thought so handsome--so it was in her own set; but her eyes had been dwelling upon velvet cloaks and sable victorines the past two hours. Alas! for her last year's mantle, pretty as it had been; embroidered merinos looked so _common_--fatal word.