"Wait until they are on, dear. You can never tell how a thing looks until it is on," she said reassuringly; but alas, for Peggy, little did she dream how painfully she would discover the truth of her own words. A quarter of an hour later Eunice was hooking the front of her bodice, when the door burst open and in rushed Peggy, red in the face, gasping for breath, her neck craned forward, her arms sticking out stiffly on either side, for all the world like a waxen figure in a shop window. "My neck!" she gasped. "My sleeves! They torture me! My arms are screwed up like sausages. The collar band cuts like a knife. I'm like a trussed fowl--I'll burst! I know I shall! I'll die of asphyxiation. What shall I do? What shall I do? What can have happened to make it like this?" "Oh dear! oh dear! You do look uncomfortable. It was big enough when you tried it on last. You must have drawn in the arm-holes while you were sewing them. Yes, you have! I can see the puckers, and the sleeves are stretched so tight too. You didn't take them in again, surely?" "Just a tiny bit. They looked so baggy. But the collar, Eunice, the collar! For pity's sake take it off! I shall be raw in a moment. Take the scissors, pull--tug! Get it off as quick as you can." "Take it off! But then what will you--" pleaded Eunice; but Peggy's eyes flashed at her with so imperious a command that she began to snip without further protest. The band came off easily--astonishingly easily, and Peggy heaved a sigh of relief, and flapped her arms in the air. "When! That's better. I can breathe again. I could not have borne it another moment. Now I should be fairly comfortable, if only--only--the sleeves were a little bigger! It is too late to let them out, but just round the arm-holes, eh? A little tiny snip here and there to relieve the pressure?" She put her head on one side in her most insinuating fashion, but Eunice was adamant. Never, she protested, would she consent to such a step. No seam could be expected to hold, if treated in such fashion. How would Peggy like it if her sleeve came off altogether in the course of the evening? There would be humiliation! Better a thousand times a trifling discomfort than such a downfall as that! "Trifling!" echoed Peggy sadly. "Trifling indeed. Shows all you know. I am suffering tortures, my dear, and you stand there, cool and comfortable, preaching at me!" She paused for a moment, and for the first time stared scrutinously at her friend. Eunice looked charming, the simplicity of her dress giving a quaint, Quaker-like appearance to the sweet face. Plain as her blouse was, it was a remarkable success for a first effort, and though it had necessarily a dozen faults, the whole effect was neat and dainty.