VIII

If she lives to be a thousand, Tessie Gilfooly will never forget the day

she spent shopping in the Evergreen. It was so vastly different from the

days she had spent in the Evergreen selling aluminum.

"Get everything you want and what a queen should have," Mr. Kingley had

said, even before he saw the check Mr. Marvin gave Tessie. "Shoes and

hats and everything. Miss Morley will help you." And he sent for Miss

Morley, who went to New York every month and had been to Paris twice,

and so would know what queens should wear.

Tessie was considerably in awe of Miss Morley with her black hair

swirled around her head, her face delicately painted, her black canton

crepe--no cheap black sateen for Miss Morley--the latest thing in

frocks. But Miss Morley was looking at her with such frank admiration

that she dared to smile shyly as she blushed.

"It's awfully kind of you to help me," she even dared to say.

"I'll be glad to help you." Miss Morley smiled, too. "I never dressed a

queen before, and it will be great fun. We'll begin at the very

beginning because I expect that your underthings are no more royal than

your outside clothes."

"I've always wanted silk things," apologized Tessie, her hands

fluttering among the soft flesh-colored crepes and satins. She loved

them. She wanted them all. She longed to feel the touch of them on her

slim little body which had known only coarse cotton.

But Miss Morley pushed the lovely things contemptuously away. She even

tilted her long aristocratic nose at them.

"They're all right for silly shopgirls and cheap persons," she declared

scornfully, "but what a queen wants--oh, Rose, haven't you any linen,

fine and sheer, hand-sewed and hand-hem-stitched?"

And when Miss Rose Beacon of the lingerie had produced a special box in

which was linen, soft and fine, and enriched with much dainty hand-work,

she drew a long breath.

"There!" She pushed the cobwebby things towards Tessie. "That's what

queens wear!" She said it as positively as if she had dressed a queen

every day of her life.

"But--" faltered Tessie, looking longingly at the flesh-colored satins

and crepes.

"Half a dozen sets of these, Rose," ordered Miss Morley. "And as many

gowns."

"And half a dozen sets of the satin, too," whispered Tessie, the minute

Miss Morley turned her back. "I've always wanted silk underclothes, and

now I'm going to have some even if all queens don't wear them. I guess I

can afford them!"

It was the same all through the store. Tessie found what she had coveted

and sighed over was not proper for a queen. She had to buy flat-heeled

broad-toed shoes for walking, instead of the narrow-toed high heels for

which her soul yearned.

"High heels for dress, low heels for the street. Don't ever make the

mistake of wearing high heels on the street, Miss Gilfooly," advised

Miss Morley. "They'll make you look cheap and common."

"No, ma'am," Tessie murmured meekly, but she privately resolved to wear

her high heels when and where she pleased. Miss Morley would not be with

her always. And how could high heels make any girl look cheap and

common? They looked expensive and fine to Tessie's big blue eyes.

Miss Morley would not let her wear lace stockings with her street shoes,

but demanded a plain heavy silk. The dark blue crepe frock which was

finally chosen to cover the dainty camisole and plain dark blue

bloomers, was as simple as a frock could be, but it was a French model

and it made Tessie a very different girl from the one who had worn the

old black sateen.

"Now," remarked Miss Morley when half a dozen frocks had been chosen,

always the plainest and the simplest, "we'll go up to the third and have

your hair dressed."

"I can do my own hair," Tessie exclaimed eagerly. She was aghast at the

amount of money she had spent. Who ever would suppose that such plain

things would cost so much?

"I said dressed," smiled Miss Morley. "You can do your hair like the

shopgirls," she seemed to have a vast contempt for the way shopgirls

dressed and did their hair, "but what you want is a simple

coiffure--something royal!"

She told the astonished head of the hairdressing department what she

thought would be simple and royal, and she stood beside Tessie while

Mrs. Nelson took the buns from Tessie's ears, and redressed her hair in

simple waves. Tessie had pretty hair with a soft natural curl in it, and

she had a well-shaped head, although she had very successfully concealed

that fact with her buns and her rolls. But the clever professional

fingers made the most of her wavy hair and of the shape of her head.

"There!" Miss Morley approved of the result if Tessie did look at it a

bit doubtfully and wonder if it could be all right. "Now for a

manicure!"

When Miss Morley at last took Tessie down to show Mr. Kingley what could

be done by the Evergreen, they met Mr. Bill on the threshold. He was

trying to talk to Ka-kee-ta, who had reluctantly consented to wait for

his queen in the office, and who only had grunts in answer to Mr. Bill's

questions. Mr. Bill looked at Miss Morley and at Tessie. And he looked

again at Tessie. _Was_ it Tessie? Tessie blushed and dimpled.

"Well, I'll be darned!" he exclaimed unbelievingly. "If it isn't Queen

Teresa! You certainly make one sweet peach of a queen!" He was quite

scarlet and somewhat incoherent in his admiration.

"Clothes do make a difference, don't they, Mr. Bill?" asked Miss Morley,

proud of what she had made of Tessie. "She looks quite smart now,

doesn't she? I've been working over her all morning."

"Good work!" approved Mr. Bill. "I'll say she looks all right!" And his

hearty admiration deepened the color in Tessie's cheeks as well as in

his own face. Imagine Mr. Bill saying that Tessie Gilfooly looked all

right! No wonder Tessie's face was pink, and her eyes shone.

Mr. Kingley admired Tessie also and told Miss Morley that she had done

well--remarkably well.

"I knew the Evergreen could outfit a woman for any position," he said

with great satisfaction. "You selected other garments than what she is

wearing?"

"You said to fit her out appropriately but not foolishly." Miss Morley

repeated the orders she had received. "I have chosen a couple of

afternoon frocks, dinner gowns and evening gowns and a little jersey and

a serge for day wear."

"And hats?" suggested Mr. Kingley. "A queen can't wear her crown all the

time." And he laughed at his joke.

"And hats." Miss Morley was polite enough and clever enough to laugh

with him. "And shoes and everything. She has a very complete little

outfit."

"That's good. That's very good. You might collect the gowns and hats,

Miss Morley, and make a little exhibition of them to-morrow before they

are delivered. Miss Gilfooly can wait a day longer for them, and our

customers will be interested in a royal wardrobe. Have Miss Lee run a

little story in the _Gazette_. It isn't every store," he told them

proudly, "that could fit out a queen at a moment's notice. You arrange a

little exhibition, Miss Morley, and we'll invite Waloo to come and see

it. You'll like that, my dear," he told Tessie, who was not sure that

she would like it at all.

Joe Cary, bringing a message to Mr. Kingley from Mr. Maltby, the

assistant advertising manager, who had been discharged from his jury,

most certainly did not like it and he dared to say so.

"Your clothes belong to you, Tess. Don't you make a show of them," he

advised in a whisper.

Mr. Kingley went on talking, and he sounded as though he had heard Joe's

whisper, although he never looked at Joe.

"A queen owes that sort of thing to her people. They want show and

celebration and pageants in return for their money. You must expect that

now you are a queen," he told Tessie.

"Huh," sniffed Joe, and he spoke louder than perhaps he meant to speak,

for Mr. Kingley looked at him.

"What did you say, Cary?" he asked sharply.

"Here are those proofs from the _Gazette_ for the wash-goods sale," he

said. "And as for queens and kings, the fewer there are, the better the

world will be."

"This is no place for anarchism, Cary," Mr. Kingley told him coldly. "Go

and tell Mr. Maltby I want to see him at once. And, Cary, you might make

a little sketch of Miss Gilfooly as she is now and Maltby can run it

with a line--'Royalty Clothed by the Evergreen'--under it. It will

please the people, my dear. They'll like to come and buy where queens

buy," he said shrewdly.

"Huh!" muttered Joe. "Don't you let them make a monkey of you for the

old Evergreen, Tess," he whispered, as he went for his pencil and

drawing board, after he had mastered his impulse to "punch old Kingley

in the snout."

But Tessie never heard him. Joe and his mutters were an old story, but a

new and very fascinating tale was the admiration of Mr. Bill and his

father. She gladly agreed to everything that Mr. Kingley suggested.

"Of course," went on Mr. Kingley, with the zeal of an artist who wanted

his work to be quite perfect, "of course you don't know anything about

royal etiquette."

"Perhaps I could get a book in the book department," suggested Tessie

meekly. Mr. Kingley was right. She knew absolutely nothing of how a

queen should conduct herself, but if the Evergreen could clothe royalty,

surely it could tell a queen how to behave.

Mr. Kingley shook his head. He did not believe there was such a volume

among the thousands of books in the big department. Miss Morley shook

her head, too. Mr. Bill just stood and stared at Tessie.

"There's old Madame Cabot!" suggested Miss Morley suddenly. "She was

presented at court when she was a girl, and her uncle was minister to

Italy. I read it in the _Gazette_ in the story on her seventieth

birthday. She could tell Miss Gilfooly the way the Queen of Italy did

things. I should think that would help her."

"It undoubtedly would help her. You are very resourceful, Miss

Morley--very resourceful." And Mr. Kingley showered Miss Morley with his

august approval. "Bill, call up your mother and ask her to arrange to

take Miss Gilfooly to see Madame Cabot as soon as possible."

"Shouldn't Madame Cabot call on the queen?" Mr. Bill did not want to

take his eyes from Tessie to call up any one. He was perfectly satisfied

to let matters remain as they were.

"Madame Cabot is an old lady, and under the circumstances I am sure that

our queen will waive etiquette and go to her. It will be a great

privilege to have her help. Madame Cabot is a great lady."

"I know!" Tessie was faint and breathless at the mere thought of going

to see Madame Cabot. Tessie knew the aristocratic old lady by sight, but

she had never sold her so much as a kitchen spoon. She was a little awed

at the prospect of talking to her as queen to queen, but she bravely

lifted her head and looked at Mr. Kingley. "It will be awfully kind of

her to help me. I don't know anything," she admitted with a rosy shame

which was adorable--at least, Mr. Bill thought it was adorable. "I had

to leave school before I graduated from the high."

"You can learn. You can have teachers and learn," advised Mr. Kingley.

"And Madame Cabot can help you if she will."

"If she only will!" breathed Miss Morley, and for the first time since

she had been with Tessie, she seemed envious. She had not envied Tessie

her new clothes nor her throne, but she did seem to envy her the

possibility of a talk with Madame Cabot. "She knows! She has the most

perfect manners! You'll be helped just by looking at her," she told

Tessie.

Mr. Bill jeered. "That old dame," he began, but he was not allowed to go

any farther.

"My son!" rebuked his scandalized father.

"Mr. Bill!" exclaimed Miss Morley, so aghast that her delicately tinted

face acquired a lavender tint.

"Oh, all right," Mr. Bill said carelessly. "Only if you want my opinion,

which of course isn't worth a bean to you, you'll leave Miss Gilfooly

alone. She's all right as she is! My word, I should think she was! I

suppose Madame Cabot is all right, too, but she's old and our little

queen is young. What is all right for an old lady might be all wrong for

a young one!"

Tessie's pink face grew pinker. She had not a word to say, she could

only blush and dimple until Mr. Bill blushed, too.

"You call up your mother!" ordered Mr. Kingley curtly.

Tessie could scarcely breathe when Mr. Bill put her in the limousine

beside his mother, while Ka-kee-ta slipped into the front seat, although

the chauffeur looked at him out of the corner of a most scornful eye.

Mr. Bill's mother was so proud and so haughty that Tessie had never

expected to ride with her. Mrs. Kingley had never been in the hardware

department while Tessie had been there, and Tessie had had only an

occasional glimpse of her when she had been sent up from the basement on

some errand. She had never imagined that she would ever be on friendly

terms with her, and yet Mrs. Kingley seemed quite friendly. She smiled

pleasantly--even cordially.

"And this is our little queen! No, Bill, your father would not want you

to come with us! Surely you have work to do here!"

"Take Miss Gilfooly home to dinner, and I'll go back and see if I can

find anything to do," suggested Mr. Bill, showing his firm white teeth

in an appealing grin.

"Bill! I expect the queen has a dinner engagement." But Tessie hadn't,

and she managed to gather breath and courage to say so. "Well, we will

see," Mrs. Kingley promised Mr. Bill. "Madame Cabot is expecting us,"

she told Tessie as they drove away and left Mr. Bill standing somewhat

disconsolate on the curb. "How romantic it is! I expect you are quite

excited? It is enough to excite any girl to be told that she is a queen.

I remember I saw Queen Mary once--of England, you know--before the war.

She was riding in a coach with outriders, and it made Bill and me think

of a circus parade. I must say she looked a frump. You are very well

turned out, my dear. You look quite as a queen should look." And she

frankly approved of the quiet little hat and plain frock Miss Morley had

chosen.

"I got them at the Evergreen. Mr. Kingley has been so kind," Tessie told

Mr. Kingley's wife gratefully.

Mrs. Kingley smiled knowingly. "I expect Mr. Kingley knows what he is

about. It pleased him immensely to have all those stories about you and

the Evergreen in the newspapers. I tell Mr. Kingley that's what he lives

for--the Evergreen. By the way, don't be nervous if Madame Cabot is a

little severe. You must remember that you are a queen and hold up your

head," she advised, as they stopped before the old mansion where Madame

Cabot had lived for almost half a century.

Madame Cabot was not a bit severe. It pleased her to be interested in

this new royalty, and she searched her memory for any reminiscence which

would help Tessie.

"But the etiquette of your islands will be so different from anything I

have known, that I doubt if I can be of much assistance to you," she

said slowly. "Be simple and honest, my dear. That will be your best

rule. Don't claim to know more than you do. Your people will understand

that you were not brought up to be a queen, and they will not expect you

to know their customs and manners. Tell them frankly that you are

ignorant, but that you want to learn. That is by far the best way. Don't

you think so, Mrs. Kingley?"

"Oh, quite," agreed Mrs. Kingley, unobtrusively pinching herself to make

sure that she really was there talking to Madame Cabot about the proper

behavior of queens. It was so unbelievable that she had to give herself

quite a sharp pinch to be quite sure.

And while the two older women talked of queens and their behavior,

Tessie looked around the old-fashioned room and drank her tea from the

thin china cups, and wished that the sandwiches were larger, for she was

hungry, and of course, a queen would never take but one sandwich no

matter how small it was.

"You have been so kind," she said shyly to Madame Cabot, when the

audience was over. "I shan't ever forget how kind you have been. And I

shall try and remember to be honest and simple," she promised from the

bottom of her grateful heart. She thought she could manage to do that,

and she was very grateful to Madame Cabot for so easy a rule. She had

been afraid that Madame Cabot would tell her of hard things she would

have to do. But any one could be simple and honest.

And Madame Cabot, the great and exclusive Madame Cabot, was touched by

her humble appreciation and by the shy wistfulness in her rosy face.

"Bless the child!" she exclaimed quite as Granny might have exclaimed,

and she stooped and kissed Tessie's pink cheek. "You must come and see

me again. I like young people--especially pretty young girls."

Mrs. Kingley purred. She knew, if Tessie did not, what an invitation

from Madame Cabot meant. "I am going to take her home with me," she told

Madame Cabot almost proudly. "Just a little family dinner."