A Flight To Heaven Read Online Free PDF Page A

said.
    “Well, then you must not have it,” Chiara replied, looking up as Madame Winterson returned, expecting her to be bringing a variety of emerald and leafy green fabrics.
    But the armful of rustling silk the Frenchwoman carried was of a soft golden colour.
    “These warm tones, mademoiselle , will perfectly complement your lovely hair. Would you care to try one?”
    She held up a pretty dress, shaking out the soft bodice and the long full sleeves.
    Elizabeth gave a gasp of surprise and then followed Madame Winterson into the back of the shop.
    When she came back, Chiara clapped her hands in delight. The gold silk dress was in the very latest style, pulled in tightly at the waist and very loose and full over the bust and hips.
    Elizabeth looked very grown-up, Chiara thought.
    The elegant silhouette was so pretty that it made her look just like a proud soft-feathered pigeon as she twirled around, her long skirts sweeping over the floor.
    “What do you think?” she was asking anxiously. “I have never worn anything like this before.”
    “It’s wonderful!” Chiara cried. “You look, oh, you look like a beautiful golden dove, all ready to bill and coo with Arthur!”
    “But the colour?”
    “It’s perfect,” Chiara told her friend. “It makes your face glow and your hair look so warm and attractive.”
    Madame Winterson came bustling out again and this time her arms were full of russet brown velvet.
    “And now, what about this?” she said and draped a little fitted coat around Elizabeth’s shoulders.
    “You must have it!” Chiara said. “It goes perfectly with the dress and it brings out all the brown tones in your hair. It’s really lovely!”
    Elizabeth looked at herself in Madame Winterson’s long mirror.
    “You are right! I would never have thought to wear brown, but it really suits me. Thank you, madame . If you put these on one side for me, I will tell Papa that I should like to buy them.”
    The little Frenchwoman looked very pleased.
    “ De rien , mademoiselle , and now for your friend?”
    She looked at Chiara.
    “Oh no, I don’t need anything,” Chiara said. “I am not the one who is going to be married very soon!”
    Madame Winterson shook her head.
    “Then we must put that right at once. I have just the creation that will bring all the young gentlemen tumbling to your feet!”
    She disappeared again.
    “Do let’s go,” Chiara urged, jumping to her feet.
    But Madame Winterson was back.
    She held up a little white dress, as fresh and bright as a snowflake, that was trimmed with delicate lace at the neck and round the elbow-length sleeves and wrapped at the waist with a blue silk sash.
    “Oh, Chiara!” Elizabeth breathed. “It’s just like a pretty white cloud.”
    A ray of sunshine shone through the shop window and touched the dress, lighting up the gleaming white silk.
    Chiara recalled the brilliant light reflecting from the lake she had walked to and the pure gleaming whiteness of the swans’ feathers as they glided over the water.
    “You must try it on,” Elizabeth was saying.
    Chiara went into the back of the shop and stood behind a thick velvet curtain as the Frenchwoman helped her into the dress.
    The waist was very tight and it was strange to feel the cool air on her bare forearms as she walked back out into the shop
    Now it was Elizabeth’s turn to clap her hands in delight.
    “It was made for you, Chiara! I can just see you dancing in it. You will be the loveliest girl at any ball.”
    Chiara caught a quick glimpse of herself in the long mirror. Her dark hair fell over the ruffles of lace at the neckline and her eyes shone a vivid blue, echoed by the sash at her waist.
    Then, as she turned back to Elizabeth and Madame Winterson, the skirts drifted around her legs like soft white mist and she suddenly wanted to dance and would have taken a few steps, if the shop had not been so small.
    But then she remembered her Papa.
    “I am still in mourning,” she said. “It