She disappeared, laughing, into a dressing-room, and presently the first
saleswoman excused herself to wait on new customers. The girl came back
transformed. She had a handsome brunette face, with merry dark eyes and a
great deal of black hair arranged in an elaborate end striking coiffure.
"Isn't it swell?" she asked, walking leisurely before him. "But you'll
have to fasten it for her; it hooks in the back." Then she stopped; the
fun went out of her face; her glance had fallen to his crippled hand. "I'm
awfully sorry," she stammered. "Of course she can manage it herself; we
all have to sometimes."
But the little man was rapt in the gown. "I'll take it!" he said
tremulously. "It suits you great, but, my! She'll be a sight."
"I'll bet she's pretty," said the girl, still trying to make amends. "I'd
like to see her in this chiffon. And I guess your party will be swell."
Banks looked troubled. "It isn't a party; not exactly. You see she's been
away from town quite a spell, and I thought likely she'd be a little short
on clothes. I guess while I'm about it I may as well take along everything
that naturally goes with this dress; shoes and socks and a hat and--
flannels--"
He paused in uncertainty, for the girl had suddenly turned her back again.
"I'd like to leave the rest to you," he added. "Pick out the best; the
whole outfit straight through."
"I'll be glad to." The girl turned again, controlling a last dimple. "You
are the thoughtfullest man I ever saw on this floor. She's in luck; but I
guess you aren't married--yet."
Banks laughed his high, strained laugh and rose. "No," he answered
briskly, "no, not exactly. But I want you to hurry out this bill of goods
in time for the four-ten Great Northern. I can't go without it, and I'm
counting on making Wenatchee to-night."
"Wenatchee?" exclaimed the girl. "Is that where you expect her to wear
this chiffon? Why, it's the dustiest place under the sun. Take my word for
it; I came from there. And, see here, they don't give big parties there;
the people are just nice and friendly; it's a small town. If I were you
I'd choose a tan; a veiling gown, like this first one we showed you, only
tan. Then you could put the difference in price into a coat;--we have some
smart ones in tan,--with a light pongee duster to slip over it all, if
she's driving or using a machine."
Banks nodded. "Sure, tuck them all in; but this pink dress goes, too, and
see it's on top. Likely they'll go best in a trunk. Now, if you will give
me the bill--"
He paused to take out his poke, but the girl laughed. "I can't," she said.
"It will take me half an hour to foot it all up after I've picked out the
things. And unless you give me a limit, I won't know where to stop. Then
there's the hat. I never would dare to choose that for a woman I've never
seen, unless she's my style."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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