But it hadn't cost her a
thought or an effort to see the hat.
"All right," she said after a bit. "I'll see what I can do. If you'll
show me where the things are ..."
It was a much humbler sort of job, of course, designing a hat for a
middle-aged village spinster, than making those dozen gowns for
Goldsmith and Block had been. But this consideration never occurred to
her. She found, and was not even amazed to find, the same thrill of
exhilaration in conquering the small problem, that she had found in the
larger one. She worked with the same swift unconscious economy of labor
and materials.
At the end of two hours, she presented the result of her labors for the
milliner's approval.
Miss Gibbons surveyed it with a smile of ironic appreciation.
"It isn't what I'd call a real finished job," she commented after a
minute inspection of some of the details of Rose's sewing. "I wouldn't
trust it in a high wind not to scatter all the way from here to the
Presbyterian church. But it will certainly suit Agatha Stebbins.
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