Free The Ladies by Doris Grumbach Page B

measurements. While they were thus occupied, he set out on his broad display table the materials they might choose among. The sewing mistress fitted the Ladies for the full, plain long skirts and tight spencer jackets for which the Sutton tailors were noted. Then she suggested they step out to select their cloths.
    This enterprise was to be Eleanor’s, they had decided before entering the shop. Sarah agreed to wear whatever Eleanor chose for her, for it was clear from the first that Eleanor wished them both to have the same materials.
    Eleanor said: ‘We shall require habits and all the accoutrements. Do you provide shirts and stocks, such things?’
    â€˜For ladies? No, my lady, but there is a fine ladies’ place a square distant from here that—’
    â€˜No matter. We prefer those made for men, in suitable sizes, of course,’ said Eleanor firmly.
    â€˜For ladies, yes. Of course,’ said Mr Sutton the son, sounding dubious.
    He gestured the Ladies back into the disrobing room. They donned plain and ruffled shirts and tried stocks and ascot neck scarfs of a variety and size suitable ordinarily to male anatomy. The sewing mistress, mystified but agreeable, made the necessary adjustments. When they returned, Mr Sutton wished to know their preference in cloth for the habits. They looked carefully over his thick bolts of black, blue, deep green, and russet worsteds, rough woollens, and fine velvets, fingering each one carefully.
    Then Eleanor told Mr Sutton: ‘We will have three for each of us, four in this dark blue material, two in black velvet.’
    â€˜ Six, do you mean, my lady?’
    â€˜Six, yes. And we require cloaks, in black, of this smooth Irish tweed cloth.’
    â€˜Yes. Yes, indeed. It will take some time, but …’
    â€˜We are in no hurry except for the first sets of clothes, which we shall require when we travel soon from Birmingham. Those you may send to us at The Lark on Brewster street. We shall pay for all the work in advance. I trust you will send the remainder to us when we notify you of our permanent address.’
    â€˜Very good,’ said Mr Sutton. His bland English face betrayed nothing of his delighted astonishment at the size of the order. Never before in his memory (and he intended to ask his father, now in retirement, if his memory contained any such a thing) had a lady ordered more than one set of travelling clothes at a time. These ladies were … well, indeed, they were … odd.
    â€˜Riding gloves with gauntlets. Do you have those?’
    â€˜Oh yes, indeed we do.’
    They each chose two pairs of fine leather gloves and then inspected Indian muslin cravats. Mr Sutton saw how things were progressing. This time he was better prepared to maintain a countenance that betrayed no surprise when Eleanor chose six for each of them. He offered them silver-tipped crops of excellent leather. They ordered two, smiling to each other at the useless but handsome acquisitions. They realized that to refuse the crops would reveal their true intentions. So they said nothing.
    They were being ushered across the sill of the shop when Eleanor remembered something more.
    â€˜Hats,’ she said to Mr Sutton the son.
    â€˜ Hats , my lady? Of what variety?’
    â€˜Top hats, of beaver or silk. Perhaps both.’
    A further half hour was spent discovering the Ladies’ sizes and fitting to their slender heads the hats made of curved brims and high round shining tops. Four such items of headwear were ordered, two in smooth brushed beaver, two in black silk. Once again they turned to the door.
    Two weeks were agreed upon as a reasonable time for the first delivery. Eleanor gave the tailor her name, preceded naturally by the title she was not entitled to, and Sarah’s, the Honorable Sarah Ponsonby. She paid from the purse that held their combined resources and they left Mr Sutton’s place, arm in arm, elated at their purchases, even