IN A WINTER CITY. 1T3
already—and what I owe Worth !—not to talk
of the Maison Eoger-----~"
" Let me give you one," said the Lady Hilda.
" Worth will do anything at short notice for either
of us ; and I must think this poor Postiche woman
ought to see you in a new dress, as she's never to
see j'ou again."
" You are a darUng, Hilda! " said [Madame
Mila, with ardent effusion, rising to kiss her
Lady Hilda turned to let the caress fall on the
old guipure lace fichu round her throat, and
drew her vn-iting-things to her to pen a telegram
to M, Worth.
" I suppose you don't care to say what colour ? "
she asked as she wrote.
" Oh no," answered the Comtesse. " He
remembers aU the combinations I've had much
better than I do. You dictate to him a Uttle too
much; I've heard him say so------"
"He never said so to me," said the Lady
HUda, with a laugh. " Of course I dictate to
him. Whatever taste your dress-maker, man or
woman, may have—and he has genius—there are