The name of Vanderpoel
already stood, in London, for inexhaustible resource. Yes, it was simple
enough to send for politely subservient saleswomen to bring what one
wanted.
The being reminded in every-day matters of the still real existence of
the power of this magic was the first step in the rebuilding of Lady
Anstruthers. To realise that the wonderful and yet simple necromancy
was gradually encircling her again, had its parallel in the taking of
a tonic, whose effect was cumulative. She herself did not realise the
working of it. But Betty regarded it with interest. She saw it was good
for her, merely to look on at the unpacking of the New York boxes, which
the maid, sent for from London, brought down with her.
As the woman removed, from tray after tray, the tissue-paper-enfolded
layers of garments, Lady Anstruthers sat and watched her with normal,
simply feminine interest growing in her eyes. The things were made
with the absence of any limit in expenditure, the freedom with delicate
stuffs and priceless laces which belonged only to her faint memories of
a lost past.
Nothing had limited the time spent in the embroidering of this
apparently simple linen frock and coat; nothing had restrained the
hand holding the scissors which had cut into the lace which adorned in
appliques and filmy frills this exquisitely charming ball dress.
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