Free The Misses Moffet Mend A Marriage: A Victorian San Francisco Story by M. Louisa Locke Page B

to Mrs. Roberts, inside out, while Millie securely pinned the side panels to it at the waist. Mrs. Roberts obligingly held the sides of the skirt up while she and her sister tacked on the back panel. While basting the waistband to the skirt, Minnie chattered about the twisted scarf drapery that they were going to fasten to the back of the outfit. Meanwhile, Millie swiftly pinned the four panels together, seams side out. They had made the skirt go straight down from the hips, only beginning a very slight flair at the knees, so that Mrs. Roberts could actually walk in the outfit when it was completed.
    Working so closely to her scantily clothed client, Millie couldn’t help but notice the musky scent that rose from Mrs. Roberts’s warm skin. She wondered if men liked that sort of animal smell. In her youth, she had folded her clothing in lavender, but she had never before considered whether her fiancé would have preferred something stronger. Ladies just didn’t think in those terms fifty years ago. Then, as Minnie would point out, Mrs. Roberts was no lady.
    “M iss Minnie, weren’t you going to trim the ends of the skirt with the cashmere you are using on the bodice?” Mrs. Roberts asked.
    Her sister stopped in the midst of her description of the new princess -style walking dress she was making for another customer and responded, “Yes, Mrs. Roberts, you are quite correct. Millicent is going to mark where the flounce will attach to the inside of the skirt, and then I will know how deep to make the triangles we talked about. As I always say, ‘Measure twice, cut once.’ I really believe the finished skirt will be very fetching once I have added the cashmere. That was an excellent idea on your part; there won’t be another one like it this season. I wouldn’t be surprised, however, if it catches on and we have requests for it in the future. I promise not to….”
    Millie heard the sound of the oute r door to the adjoining bedroom open and then close, and she looked up at the clock on the mantle. They had come at noon, and it was now nearly twenty-five past the hour. She quickly knelt down to fold and pin the bottom of the skirt up, automatically calculating how much extra material would be needed to ensure that, when Mrs. Roberts was wearing her shoes with their three-inch heels, there wouldn’t be a whisper of space between the end of the dress and the floor. As their client began to fidget, her sister made a valiant effort to buy Millie a little more time by asking Mrs. Roberts a question about the play they knew she had planned to attend last Saturday.
    It was of no use. Mrs. Roberts had evidently heard the door as well, and she said sharply, “Do unpin me! You’ve surely gotten what you need. We can finish fitting the skirt next week.”
    Millie rose and quickly re positioned the pins along one of the seams so that the skirt was now open at the side, permitting Mrs. Roberts to extricate herself. Once, she hadn’t moved quickly enough and Mrs. Roberts had pulled two pieces of material apart in her impatience, damaging the material irreparably. As her sister would say, ‘Haste makes waste!’
    “Oh dear, I had hoped you would have time to partake of the lunch I had brought up for you. You didn’t even drink your tea,” Mrs. Roberts said, her good humor restored now that she was free.  She stretched and pretended to yawn, saying, “I just don’t know what has come over me. I am suddenly so fatigued. You will excuse me, won’t you? I must insist that you gather up your things and go. I really must retire.”
    Mrs. Roberts pulled on the lilac-colored wrapper, not even taking time to button it up, and stood next to the door leading to the hotel hallway.
    The habitual smile her sister wore fl ickered out, and as Minnie hurriedly folded up the skirt, she said, so softly that Millie barely made out the words, “Once again, new dress, new admirer. I wonder who she has gotten into her clutches this