Anglo-Indians -- Fiction; India -- History -- British occupation, 1765-1947 -- Fiction; Young women -- Fiction
The apartment now resembled the atelier of some fashionable milliner,
the stock was so choice and extensive. In a surprisingly short time
the "others" had assembled. These included Mrs. Chandos, her hair in
curling pins, spotted dressing-jacket and short striped petticoat--she
had very neat feet; Dominga, in ragged _déshabille_; the ayah,
attracted from her hookah; last, not least, Granny Lopez, clad in
a loose garment that was really an old tussore silk dust-cloak, a
scanty petticoat and a pair of discarded tennis shoes, carrying under
her arm a reluctant black cat--all come to behold and gloat over the
great show. Nani was accommodated with a chair, and Verona, by special
request, held up and exhibited separately the most elegant items of her
wardrobe.
What little screams of admiration greeted the sight of some garments;
what a chorus of "Oh, mys!" attended the display of others. By the
end of half an hour every possible epithet of admiration had been
exhausted, and Verona was exhausted too.
"Well, in all my life, I never did see such beautiful clothes,"
confessed Mrs. Chandos.
Which statement was no doubt true.
"They must have cost hundreds of pounds."
This was also a fact.
"Oh, my! Oh, my! what advantages you have had, Verona, child, compared
with these poor girls," she continued as she flitted about the room
in a condition of extraordinary excitement; "you must share your fine
feathers with them now. If Dominga here were set off in that blue and
white, she would look every bit as well as you; all she wants is to be
dressed up in good clothes--eh, Nani?"
"That is so," agreed the elder with her wheezy laugh, "for who can row
without water?"
"Now I shall divide some of these things," declared Mrs. Chandos, as
she hovered about; "Verona could not wear half of them."
Verona, who had made up her mind never again to mix in society, and
had originally brought out this large outfit with the intention of
sharing it with her sisters, would nevertheless have preferred to have
bestowed her garments to her own liking, and not to stand by passively
while her mother distributed her wardrobe. The choicest articles were
shamelessly selected for Dominga--for instance, a magnificent white
satin gown, a pale blue crêpe de chine, an elaborate lace costume, a
mauve and silver tea gown. Then Pussy was endowed with various frocks
and hats (Verona helping in the selection), and the possession of a
certain pink feather boa had made her completely happy. Verona also
chose a pretty chiffon cape, which she spread over her grandmother's
ample shoulders. It was a very orgie of millinery, among which Mrs.
Chandos hovered, picking out a toque here, a sash there. At last, when
the supply had become somewhat low, she said:
"Well, that will do for the girls; I will take these blouses and the
pink satin for myself; it will alter, and I will wear it for the
Volunteer Ball. Eh, Nani, what do you say?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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