“Too small!” exclaimed Patty. “Why, I didn’t know stitches could be too small!”
The other smiled. “That is my argument,” she said. “You don’t know. Of course stitches should be small for ordinary sewing, and for many sorts of work. But not for millinery. Here long stitches are wanted, but they must be rightly set,—not careless long stitches.”
“Why?” said Patty, somewhat subdued now.
“Because a better effect can be produced with long stitches. You see, your stitches are small and true, but every one shows. With a skilful long stitch, no stitch is seen at all. It is what we call a blind stitch, and can only be successfully done by skilled workers, who have been taught, and who have also had practice.”
Patty was silent a moment, then she said:
“Miss O’Flynn, we agreed that I was to have a day’s trial.”
“Yes, Miss Fairfield; I will stand by my word.”
“Then may I select my own work for the afternoon?”
“Yes,” said Miss O’Flynn, wondering whether, after all, this pretty, young girl could be a harmless lunatic.
“Then I want to trim hats. Make bows, you know; sew on flowers or feathers; or adjust lace. May I do such things as that?”
Miss O’Flynn hesitated.
“Yes,” she said, finally; “if you will be careful not to injure the materials. You see, if your work should have to be done over, I don’t want the materials spoiled.”
“I promise,” said Patty, slowly.
“But, first, will you not go out for your lunch?”
“No, thank you; I’m not hungry. Please bring me my work at once.”
Chapter XII.
Three Hats
But Miss O’Flynn sent Patty a cup of hot bouillon, and some biscuit, which she ate right there at her work-table.
And it was a kindly act, for, though Patty didn’t realise it, she was really faint for want of food and also for fresh air.
The room, though large, had many occupants, and now the girls began to come back from their luncheon, and their chatter made Patty’s head ache.
But she was doing some deep thinking. Her theories about unskilled labour had received a hard blow; and she was beginning to think her millinery efforts were not going to be successful.
“But I’ve a chance yet,” she thought, as Miss O’Flynn came, bringing two hats, and a large box of handsome trimmings.
The other girls stared at this, for they knew that Patty’s morning efforts had been far from successful.
But Patty only smiled at them in a pleasant, but impersonal manner, as she took up her new work.
Her confidence returned. She knew she could do what she was now about to attempt, for, added to her natural taste and love of colour, she had been critically interested in hats while in Paris, and while visiting her friend, Lady Kitty, who was especially extravagant in her millinery purchases.
After a period of thought, Patty decided on her scheme of trimming for the two hats before her, and then set blithely to work.
One was to be a simple style of decoration, the other, much more complicated. Taking up the elaborate one first, Patty went at it with energy, and with an assured touch, for she had the effect definitely pictured in her imagination and was sure she could materialise it.
And she did. After about two hours’ hard work, Patty achieved a triumph. She held up the finished hat, and every girl at the table uttered an “ah!” of admiration at the beautiful sight.
Without response, other than a quiet smile, Patty took up the second hat. This was simple, but daring in its very simplicity. A black velvet Gainsborough, with broad, rolling brim. Patty turned it smartly up, at one side, and fastened it with a rosette of dull blue velvet and a silver buckle. Just then, Miss O’Flynn came in.
“Where did that hat come from?” she said, pointing to Patty’s finished confection.
“I trimmed it,” said Patty, nonchalantly. “Have you some silver hatpins, Miss O’Flynn?”
“You trimmed it!” exclaimed the forewoman, ignoring Patty’s question, and taking up the trimmed hat.
“Yes; do you like it?”
“It’s a marvel! It looks like a French hat. How did you know enough to trim it like this?”
“I thought it would look well that way.”
“But these twists of velvet; they have a touch!”
“Yes?” said Patty, inwardly exultant, but outwardly calm.
“And now,” she went on, “this hat is of another type.”
“It’s not finished?” asked Miss O’Flynn, eyeing the hat in uncertainty, “and yet,—any other trimming would spoil its lines.”
“Just so,” said Patty, placidly. “You see, all it needs now, is two large silver hatpins, like this,—see.”
Patty pulled two hatpins from her own hat, which she still had on, and placed them carefully in the hat she held in her hand.
“These pins are too small,—but you see what I mean.”
Miss O’Flynn did see. She saw that two larger pins would finish the hat with just the right touch, while any other decoration would spoil it.
She looked at Patty curiously.
“You’re a genius, Miss Fairfield,” she said. “Will you trim another hat?”
“Yes,” said Patty, looking at her watch. “It’s only four o’clock. May I have an evening hat, please?”
“You may have whatever you like. Come and select for yourself.”
Patty went to the cases, and chose a large white beaver, with soft, broad brim.
“I will make you a picture hat, to put in your window,” she said, smiling.
She selected some trimmings and returned to her seat at the table.
It was rather more than half an hour later when she showed Miss O’Flynn her work.
“There’s not much work on it,” Patty said, slowly. “I spent the time thinking it out.”
There was not much work on it, to be sure; and yet it was a hat of great distinction.
The white brim rolled slightly back, and where it touched the low crown it met two immense roses, one black and one of palest pink. Two slight sprays of foliage, made of black velvet leaves, nestled between the roses, and completed the trimming.
The roses were of abnormal size and great beauty, but it was the mode of their adjustment that secured the extremely chic effect.
Miss O’Flynn’s eyes sparkled.
“It’s a masterpiece,” she said, clasping her hands in admiration. “You have trimmed hats before, Miss Fairfield?”
“No,” said Patty, “but I always knew I could do it.”
“Yes, you can,” said Miss O’Flynn. “Will you come now, and talk to Madame?”
Ushered into the presence of Madame Villard, Patty suddenly experienced a revulsion of