Mother, whose ambitions at first had run to a dress from town, regretfully decided that the family finances could only supply a home-made costume, and set to work with fashion book and sewing-machine to act amateur dressmaker, a thrilling experience to unaccustomed fingers, for paper patterns are sometimes difficult to understand, seams do not fit together as they ought, and the bottom hem of a skirt is the most awkward thing in the world to make hang perfectly straight.

Quenrede, standing on the table, revolved slowly while Mrs.
Saxon and Ingred stuck in pins and debated whether a quarter of an inch here and there should be raised or lowered.

Ingred showed far more cleverness in sewing than her sister; her natty fingers could contrive pretty things already in the shape of collars and blouses.
"You'd make an admirable curate's wife!" Quenrede laughingly assured her.

"_I_ shall have to marry a rich man and get my things from London." "It will probably be the other way," declared Mother.

"Stand still, Queenie, I can't measure properly if you _will_ dance about!" Though she was ready with a joke, as a matter of fact Quenrede was having a severe struggle not to be snappy.