Under the Big Dipper

vocabulary,” remonstrated her mother mildly.

“Mummy, dear, you must let me tell my story my own way. As I was saying, Hattie and I were shopping. You know Hattie simply won’t have anything else but the latest and Frenchiest, and no trouble’s too much for her so long as she digs it out. We had been to all the likeliest places—to Arnitt’s and Longman’s and Carson’s and many others, when she insisted that we should go to Madame Lucile’s. The great lady herself waited on her, and Hattie tried on almost everything there was in the place—hats, bonnets, laces, plumes, frocks—and could not be suited. While the things were on the shelves they looked beautiful, but when Hattie tried them on she couldn’t bear them. I am sure Madame must have been disgusted. Even I was getting ashamed of her. Well, at last Madame suggested that Mademoiselle Hello-a, or a name something like that, should come and give her opinion. The young lady, she

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