Page 18 of Hank and Elsie
Miss Taylor returned the skirt to the rack and pulled out a pale shirtwaist with lace on the bodice. “These are harder because of the fit in the shoulders. Luckily, since the shirtwaists, orwaist, to give the ladylike slang description, are made to be tucked inside skirts, and often worn with a sash or belt—" she pinched her side “—so some extra material won’t matter.” She handed the shirtwaist to Elsie. “See how the cuffs detach?”
Elsie bent closer to inspect the sleeves before nodding.
“Practical for cleaning. But I’m keeping the insides unfinished so a woman with longer arms won’t have her wrists exposed.”
Self-consciously, Elsie tugged on the too-short cuffs of her dress.Not that pulling them will make them any longer.
“Now, I’m sure you’ve observed the differences for yourself. But let me just point out a few things about the main two styles of shirtwaist. This one—” she held up a white waist “—tailored, practical, almost masculine, perfect for looking professional. Also, of course, less expensive than this one.” She touched the pink lace on the neck of a different shirtwaist. “More austere, with few or little frills. Having one of these in your wardrobe will be important for working in the shop, running errands, or if we ever must travel to outfit one of our more prosperous customers and her family.” Miss Taylor patted Elsie’s shoulder. “Pick out a shirtwaist and skirt for yourself.”
Elsie gasped. “Really?”
The dressmaker frowned at Elsie’s waist. “Yes. But I suppose we need to start with a corset.”
Suddenly self-conscious about her lack of a small, tightly laced waist, Elsie placed a hand on her stomach. “Ma judged that a corset wasn’t practical for farm work and said we had dozens of more sensible needs for the money.”
“That makes sense for a farm girl. But now you’re ashopgirl. You’ll need one. I must tell you that getting used to the restriction….” She scrunched a face. “Let’s just say the tightness isn’t pleasant. But…” her tone brightened, “then one day, you’ll notice you’ve gotten used to wearing one—at least, most of the time.”
“Yes, ma’am.”A corset, just like a grownup lady!One that would give her figure more definition.
Elsie let out a happy sigh. Her foot tapped, as if wanting to dance in place, and she hastily made herself remain still.
The movement drew Miss Taylor’s attention to Elsie’s shoes, respectably blackened, but so workworn. “Oh, dear. We don’t carry shoes.”
“Don’t worry,” Elsie chirped. “The mercantile has plenty.” Hadn’t she spent several stolen minutes in the past, stroking the shiny leather of a pair just her size?
“But perhaps carrying shoes in the shop is something to think about in the future.” Miss Taylor glanced around as if deciding where a rack of shoes would go.
“Mrs. Cobb won’t like that,” Elsie warned.
“I haven’t gotten the impression that Mrs. Cobb likes very much.”
“Rich customers, probably,” Elsie said wryly.
Miss Taylor laughed. “Everybusinessowner likes wealthy customers, especially those who purchase a lot and pay cash. I guess Mrs. Cobb and I do have something in common, after all.”
“Onething in common.” Elsie lifted her skirt a few inches and pointed the toes of one foot to expose more of her ugly shoe. “But these will have to do until Pa has his boots.”
“You’re a good daughter.” Miss Taylor tapped Elsie’s forehead with a finger. “I think most girls your age, as impoverished as you’ve been, and not just in material goods, wouldn’t put their own wants aside for someone else’s.”
For once, Elsie didn’t know what to say, and guilt made her stomach sink. She wasn’t as good as Miss Taylor made her out to be, for she desperately wanted new shoes.I want boots for Pa even more,she consoled herself.Pa needs boots. I just want new shoes.
Once again, Miss Taylor seemed to understand. “It’s more admirable to give up or postpone something you dearly want for the sake of others. Nothing to be guilty about, my dear.” Her green eyes sparkled. “Now, let’s fit you out. Select one of the plain shirtwaists and a dark skirt, a tie, and a sash. Those will look practical and professional.” She reached up to touch Elsie’s bun. “We have some in brown that will match your pretty eyes and hair.”
Elsie’s chest swelled with pleasure. Compliments were few and far between in her family andneverfor appearance lest the idea encourage vanity. “Thank you, Miss Constance,” she stammered. “I’m ever so appreciative.”
“While you’re looking—” Miss Taylor gestured toward the wardrobe “—I’ll select a corset, drawers, a nightgown, and a camisole. A hat we will save for later. There will be no need for one in the next few days. Then it will be time for luncheon.”
Elsie’s stomach rumbled. Embarrassed, she placed her hand over her midsection.
“Any minute, mine’s going to grumble, too. We’re getting later than I’m used to eating.” Miss Taylor smiled and waved toward the ceiling. “But I’m so grateful for your family’s help with my boxes and furniture that I don’t mind being hungry a bit longer.” She gestured briskly toward the rack, and then moved across the room to open the doors of a wardrobe and pull out a drawer to reveal corsets.
Torn between wanting to watch and picking out new clothing, Elsie settled on the serious business of deciding on a shirtwaist.
CHAPTER 7
Back in the apartment, Miss Taylor led Elsie into her new bedroom. As she’d mentioned earlier, the space looked like a whirlwind had passed through, depositing half-finished skirts to drape over the brass bedstead, and ruffling several lengths of fabric spread in the floor under the window. A large, overstuffed wardrobe gapped open. Shirtwaists of various colors hung from a long row of hooks.
“Goodness me.” Elsie glanced around, disconcerted by the mess. Her fingers itched to start tidying.Good thing Ma didn’t see this room!“Can I help you straighten up?”
