She Walks in Beauty Read Online Free PDF

silk-upholstered screen and closed us off from the rest of the shop. The others helped me from my gown. Then one of them took the measure of my arm, another of my back, a third of my neck, and a fourth started toward my waist.
    “She’s to achieve an eighteen-inch waist by December.”
    The fourth girl dropped her measure, looking toward the third one. “Eighteen inches at the waist, then.”
    “As to colors … ?” The dressmaker stood away from the girls, letting them do their work.
    Aunt swayed atop her chair. “White, of course! For her comingout dress. And for all the balls that will follow.”
    The dressmaker bowed. “Of course. But for the other events?”
    “Something to complement her skin. And something that will make others take notice.”
    The first girl whispered to two attendants-in-waiting. They disappeared behind a curtained doorway, reappearing several minutes later laden with a colorful array of bolts of material. In shades like buffalo red, rosewood, copper, empire green, and sapphire blue.
    Aunt frowned. “I want her to attract a man, not a circus!”
    The girls bowed and backed away, soon returning with a new assortment of fabrics. This time, the colors were much softer, ranging from a pale Nile green to the lightest blue, from rose to gray lavender. And they seemed to meet Aunt’s particular requirements.
    Once the colors had been decided upon, Aunt ordered my entire wardrobe for the season. She also ordered several hoop skirts that would hang from my waist. One of the girls brought out the latest model. It consisted of fifteen hoops of various sizes, from smallest to largest, that were suspended on five tapes from a sixth tape buckled about the waist. I would be able to sit, for the first hoop started just above my knee, but I had no idea how I would manage to walk.
    Just as I assumed that we were finished, Aunt stayed the dressmaker with a hand to the woman’s arm. “And now I wish to consult with you regarding my own wardrobe.”
    Her wardrobe? It had remained unchanged since I had known her. Black gowns, black hats, black shawls, and black cloaks. If the silhouettes had been altered from time to time, the general aspect of mourning had never been placed into question.
    “Yes, madam?”
    “I wish to order”—she closed her eyes as if it pained her to speak—“a gown in purple, and one in gray.”
    Gray? Purple! My debut had accomplished what a lifetime of widowhood had not: It had persuaded her to emerge from deep mourning. Perhaps she would soon pass into other dark colors as well.
    “And some mauve cuffs.” She glared at me as she ordered them, as if I might dare to question her. “Someone must accompany you to all your operas and balls and parties.”

    After our business with the dressmaker was concluded, we continued on to Constable’s. I had heard Lizzie speak of this famed, elegant store—a genuine department store—but I had never been there. When we arrived, the coachman parked our carriage right on the street, next to two others. After he had seen us on our way, I saw him turn to speak to the other white-breeched servants waiting beside the store.
    Two doormen opened twin doors at our approach, bowing as they did so.
    Aunt took me straight to Gloves.
    A clerk took charge of us as soon as we presented ourselves. “We have some very fine gloves from England.”
    Aunt was already shaking her head. “I want French. From Grenoble. Firsts only.”
    The man took a measurement of my hand. “Six and one-half.” He reached down and pulled a pair up from the drawer, passing them to Aunt.
    She passed them right back. “If she is a six and one-half, then we’ll want a size five.”
    The man frowned but returned the pair to the drawer and took from it a new one.
    “We’ll want ten pairs of sixteen button in white. And ten pairs of twelve button. In white. And a dozen pairs of six button as well.”
    “In white?”
    Aunt nodded.
    “As you wish.”
    As the clerk put a