“Miss Ellis, now, if you’ll try on this jacket—oh! I beg your pardon,” said Miss Clippins, observing the letter, “we can wait, _of course_;” and then all three laughed as if something very pleasant was in their minds. “No,” said Lillie, giving the letter a toss; “it’ll _keep_;” and she stood up to have a jaunty little blue jacket, with its pluffy bordering of swan’s down, fitted upon her. “It’s too bad, now, to take you from your letter,” said Miss Clippins, with a sly nod. “I’m sure you take it philosophically,” said Miss Nippins, with a giggle. “Why shouldn’t I?” said the divine Lillie. “I get one every day; and it’s all the old story. I’ve heard it ever since I was born.” “Well, now, to be sure you have. Let’s see,” said Miss Clippins, “this is the seventy-fourth or seventy-fifth offer, was it?” “Oh, you must ask mamma! she keeps the lists: I’m sure I don’t trouble my head,” said the little beauty; and she looked so natty and jaunty when she said it, just arching her queenly white neck, and making soft, downy dimples in her cheeks as she gave her fresh little childlike laugh; turning round and round before the looking-glass, and issuing her orders for the fitting of the jacket with a precision and real interest which showed that there _were_ things in the world which didn’t become old stories, even if one had been used to them ever since one was born. Lillie never was caught napping when the point in question was the fit of her clothes. When released from the little blue jacket, there was a rose-colored morning-dress to be tried on, and a grave discussion as to whether the honiton lace was to be set on plain or frilled. So important was this case, that mamma was summoned from the sewing-machine to give her opinion. Mrs. Ellis was a fat, fair, rosy matron of most undisturbed conscience and digestion, whose main business in life had always been to see to her children’s clothes. She had brought up Lillie with faithful and religious zeal; that is to say, she had always ruffled her underclothes with her own hands, and darned her stockings, sick or well; and also, as before intimated, kept a list of her offers, which she was ready in confidential moments to tell off to any of her acquaintance. The question of ruffled or plain honiton was of such vital importance, that the whole four took some time in considering it in its various points of view. “Sarah Selfridge had hers ruffled,” said Lillie. “And the effect was perfectly sweet,” said Miss Clippins. “Perhaps, Lillie, you had better have it ruffled,” said mamma. “But three rows laid on plain has such a lovely effect,” said Miss Nippins. “Perhaps, then, she had better have three rows laid on plain,” said mamma. “Or she might have one row ruffled on the edge, with three rows laid on plain, with a satin fold,” said Miss Clippins. “That’s the way I fixed Miss Elliott’s.” “That would be a nice way,” said mamma. “Perhaps, Lillie, you’d better have it so.”