Lizzie Borden Read Online Free PDF Page A

I’ll trade them in for another church dress.”
    “One church dress costs more than three house dresses, Lizzie, you must know that.”
    “So? I can’t possibly go through the whole spring and summer with only one more church dress. The pastor’s wife snickers over my wardrobe as it is.”
    “Lizzie!”
    “Well, she does.”
    “All right. Two church dresses for you, then, if you must, but it will mean a month of decent meat.”
    “I don’t care.”
    “See if you care when Father gets mutton instead of pork.”
    ~~~
    Mrs. Longworth had laid out the most fascinating array of colored fabrics in her salon. In every possible color and color combination, there were cottons, woolens, flannels, silks, linens, in solids, plaids, stripes and flowers. There were brocades and tapestries and beaded fabrics. There were laces and nets, eyelets and chintz. It was a feast for the eyes, and Lizzie wanted to gather them all up in her arms and whirl around the room.
    “Good morning, Mrs. Longworth,” Emma said.
    “Emma. Lizzie. Excuse me for a moment while I tidy up. I’ve just fitted a bride and three bridesmaids.”
    Lizzie went to the pastels and began fingering some peach colored calico. Emma, she noticed, went directly to the darker colors.
    “Lizzie, come look at these fabrics. This green would accentuate your eyes.”
    “I think something pastel this spring, Emma,” Lizzie said. “Like this peachy one for example.” Emma curled her lip in distaste. “It clashes with your hair, with your eyes and with your complexion. It would make you look dead.”
    Lizzie picked up the bolt, unrolled a yard and held it in front of her face in the mirror. It did, she had to agree, give her face a greenish cast. Lizzie’s mousy brown hair and pale green eyes needed the blues and greens, Emma was right. And the darker colors were more slimming. Beatrice had dark brown hair, snapping brown eyes, and dark brows. She also wore makeup to accentuate her looks, whereas Father would allow no “paint” on any member of his household. No, peach was definitely a color for Beatrice, but not for Lizzie.
    She put the bolt back and picked up a sunshiny yellow.
    “No,” Emma said, without even looking. “Come look at this blue. This cornflower would look lovely.”
    Everything in Lizzie’s closet was blue. She took the cornflower bolt from Emma and held it up. It was nice. I was very nice. But it was blue.
    A familiar feeling began to come over Lizzie. She remembered now, about these fittings. It was the same every year, twice a year. She was bowled over by the shouts of the fabrics, but Emma chose the same colors, patterns and styles for her over and over and over again.
    The feeling grew as Mrs. Longworth took her measurements and wrote them in her black ledger. Each number was larger than the one she had written down last year, and she mentioned that with each measurement. Emma clucked with every inch.
    By the time they got to choosing the styles, there was no fun left for Lizzie. Emma chose all her fabrics and her styles, and they were just the same as she’d always had.
    When they left the dressmaker, all the promise of the day had fled.
    “I don’t know why you’re such a brat,” Emma said. “Those dresses will be very smart on you.”
    “Blue, green and lavender,” Lizzie said. “No pinks, no yellows, nothing bright and cheerful.”
    “It’s what you look best in,” Emma said.
    “Says you.”
    “Do you want to go back?”
    For a moment, Lizzie considered it. But then just before they were finished, Mrs. Kelly and her daughters came in for their fittings, and the shop would be filled with emerald greens and bright yellows with eyelet and lace and feminine giggles. The redheads had all the luck when it came to wearing vibrant colors. Not so Lizzie Borden.
    “No,” she said.
    “Then be grateful. You got two church dresses, you know.”
    “Both blue.”
    “Both expensive. They will last for years if you take care. And, of