# The Tailor-Made Girl/At a Lenten Sewing Class

AT A LENTEN SEWING CLASS.
Edith.—Why, this is a surprise! You haven't been for three meetings!
Arabella.—I know, and I quite thought I couldn't come to-day.
Edith.—What was the matter?
Arabella.—I mislaid my thimble, and we had such a time finding it.
Edith.—How provoking!
Arabella.—Yes, for there wasn't another gold thimble in the house except a couple of mama's, and they are inches too large.
Edith.—Oh, you could never have come!
Arabella.—It would have been too aggravating, for I particularly wanted to come this meeting.
Edith.—Why? It's an off-day, you know.
Arabella.—I know, and that's the reason; for I heard Nell Knickerbocker said I only come on the days the men are asked to drop in.
Edith.—How spiteful! She needn't think they "drop in" to see her.
Arabella.—No, indeed! Why, at the Elliott german, just before Lent, she was only taken out twice.
Edith.—Fancy!
Arabella.—I should die of mortification!
Edith.—And I. Do you know I am quite too provoked this afternoon?
Arabella.—Do tell me about it.
Edith.—Why, Mrs. Talcott has given me this horrid canton flannel to sew on again; the white fuzz just covers my dress.
Arabella.—Why didn't you object?
Edith.—I did, and she said there was only that work left, and suggested a larger apron.
Arabella.—As if we were waitresses!
Edith.—Yes, just fancy! I am not at all fond of Madam T., by the way.
Arabella.—Nor I. She says such pointed, disagreeable things.
Edith.—I only joined her class because mama worked so hard to get me in.
Arabella.—It's really awfully swell, you know.
Edith.—Yes; but they have plenty more fun at Mrs. Highchurch's.
Arabella.—Yes; and you might say they are just a lot of nobodies.
Edith.—They are embroidering vestments, too; much nicer work than this nasty fuzzy canton flannel.
Arabella.—We are going to begin altar-cloths next meeting.
Edith.—The men go there every time.
Arabella.—Of course, that's a great deal; still, Mrs. Talcott says it's vulgar not to be able to do anything without the men.
Edith.—She didn't think so last Lent, before her daughter caught Fred Noodle.
Arabella.—No, indeed; they were asked every evening.
Edith.—Well, Friday is a gala day. I've got an awfully fetching little chatelaine, with hanging ribbons that hold thimble, scissors, and emery cases, and a tiny needle-book.
Arabella.—How lovely! You should see my new apron; it is trimmed with Valenciennes and heliotrope feather-edge rosettes—awfully Frenchy!
Edith.—I want to see it. Oh, horrors! Mrs. Talcott is going to read; we'll have a dose of Shelley. She always reads Shelley.
Arabella.—How tiresome! I really thought she would be read out by this.
Edith.—What an exquisite thing!
Arabella.—It is such a treat to hear you read, dear Mrs. Talcott!
*** Edith.—What a hideous gown the Forsythe has on!
Arabella.—That is one of her "effects." I've heard her say one is nothing nowadays if not bizarre.
Edith.—She gives herself such airs.
Arabella.—Yes; and they are awfully new people, too. Quite the only detrimental in the class.
Edith.—Yes; mama says at the first luncheon she encountered Mrs. Forsythe she called for sugar and cream for her bouillon, mistaking it for tea!
Arabella.—Oh, fancy, how dreadful!
Arabella.—Will this interminable seam never be done? How I hate to sew!
Edith.—I never do—except here.
Arabella.—Have you the faintest idea for what or whom these garments are put together?
Edith.—Oh, not the slightest.
Arabella.—Nor I. Isn't it dull? Can't we go?
Edith.—Yes; I want to go down to Marshmallows and get some Jordan almonds to munch in church. Come with me.
Arabella.—I don't know about the almonds. I'm trying to get on with very, very few bonbons this Lent.
Edith.—Oh, I'll only get a few.
Arabella.—I've done ever so well. I had a five-pound box at Ash Wednesday, and one at Mi-Caréme, and none between.
Edith.—You deserve an indulgence to-day, then.
Arabella.—But this wretched seam isn't finished.
Edith.—That doesn't matter. Take it home and let the seamstress do it.
Arabella.—What a lovely suggestion!
Edith.—So sorry, dear Mrs. Talcott, to leave so early, but I have an errand to do before five o'clock service.
Arabella.—And I must go, too, Mrs. Talcott. But I do so want to finish this piece of work. Do allow me to take it home and complete it!