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MacDonald, George, 1824-1905

"Mary Marston"

Hesper caught the look, and understood it. For one
passing moment she felt as if, amid the poor pleasure of adorning
herself for a hated marriage, she had found a precious thing of
which she had once or twice dreamed, never thought as a possible
existence--a friend, namely, to love her: the next, she saw the
absurdity of imagining a friend in a shop-girl.
"But I must make up my mind so soon!" she answered. "Madame
Crepine gave me her idea, in answer to mine, but nothing like it,
two days ago; and, as I have not written again, I fear she may be
taking her own way with the thing. I am certain to hate it."
"I will talk to you about it as early as you please to-morrow, if
that will do," returned Mary.
She knew nothing about dressmaking beyond what came of a true
taste, and the experience gained in cutting out and making her
own garments, which she had never yet found a dressmaker to do to
her mind; and, indeed, Hesper had been led to ask her advice
mainly from observing how neat the design of her dresses was, and
how faithfully they fitted her. Dress is a sort of freemasonry
between girls.
"But I can not have the horses to-morrow," said Hesper.
"I might," pondered Mary aloud, after a moment's silence, "walk
out to Durnmelling this evening after the shop is shut. By that
time I shall have been able to think; I find it impossible, with
you before me.


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