“Eleven dollars for making three dresses—just think of it! the girls looked dumb-foundered, and so was I; but being in the scrape, we had to get out of it the best way we could. ‘Very well, ma’am,’ says I, making up our bundles again, and looking unconcerned, ‘we’ll call again when we get the trimmings.’ “‘As you please,’ says she, more like Queen Victoria than a mantua-maker; and we walked out in double-quick time, my lady never condescending to step to the door. ‘She may call us fools if she ever catches us again,’ says I to the girls. “Well, we went on to the next. The house looked pretty fine, too, this time; but under the name on the door was another plate with ‘_Fashionable Dress-making_’ on it, and we thought it didn’t look quite so stuck up. A girl let us in, and we didn’t find the parlors quite so grand, though they were stylish enough, dear knows. This was Mrs. B——’s. She was down stairs herself, waiting for customers, we supposed, which looked as if she was not above her business, and she had a table beside her covered all over with fashion-plates and magazines, like yours, on the centre-table. She was a little, sharp-eyed, fidgetty-looking woman, with a very pointy nose. She sent away a girl she was fixing a sleeve for, and came forward to meet us, and gave us seats, and seemed very sociable. “‘We have some dresses to be made, ma’am,’ says I; ‘here’s three in our hands, and it’s likely we may have some more if we can make a good bargain about these.’ I thought it best to hold out a large inducement to her. “‘And I suppose you will want the three without delay?’ said she, talking very glib; ‘dear me, how unfortunate just at this time! I have so much work on hand already. I keep twenty-two hands working night as well as day, and I don’t see how I possibly can get through all that I have taken in. But, really, I should like to oblige you three ladies—I always do all in my power to accommodate strangers—you are from the country, I presume?’ “‘From Tarry-town,’ says Easter Ann.