The Tailor-Made Girl/A Morning Round
A MORNING ROUND.
Mrs. Carlton-Pell (a society matron, entering her carriage).—You are ten minutes late, James. This must not happen again. Klunder's first.
James (touching his hat).—Yes, ma'am.
Miss Carlton-Pell (daughter of society matron).—Marie says that James's wife is very sick.
Mrs. Carlton-Pell.—Yes; I heard something of it. This is the second time James has been tardy in a week. I shall discharge him if it occurs again.
Miss Carlton-Pell.—What are you going to do at Klunder's?
Mrs. Carlton-Pell.—I want to order a basket of roses sent to Mrs. Connaisseur. She is not very well.
Miss Carlton-Pell.—Why, she was at the Van Ren wick dinner two nights ago.
Mrs. Carlton-Pell.—Yes, I know; but she is enough indisposed to warrant the attention, and I want some of her pictures for our Loan Exhibition.
Miss Carlton-Pell.—Oh, I see. A wheel within a wheel.
Mrs. Carlton-Pell.—Of course. You don't suppose, my dear, I would send that tiresome woman twenty-five dollars' worth of flowers otherwise, do you?
***
Mrs. Carlton-Pell.—Oh, here is Plush & Satin's. Sit out, if you like; I shan't be long.
Miss Carlton-Pell (ten minutes later).—Why, mama, you look quite flustered.
Mrs. Carlton-Pell.—Such impertinence! I ordered some heliotrope satin sent Monday to Whalebone, and it was quite two shades lighter than my velvet she is making.
Miss Carlton-Pell.—Well?
Mrs. Carlton-Pell.—Well, I went just now to change it, and the forward young woman insisted that I had selected that particular piece.
Miss Carlton-Pell.—How absurd!
Mrs. Carlton-Pell.—Perfectly so! She even said that I had been undecided Monday, and had remarked it was so difficult to carry a shade in one's eye.
Miss Carlton-Pell.—What did you say?
Mrs. Carlton-Pell.—Oh, I simply looked her over with my eyeglass. Then I said: "You will cut off a yard and a quarter from the piece I did select and send it at once"—and came out.
Miss Carlton-Pell.—Do you believe she will?
Mrs. Carlton-Pell.—Indeed she will! And I hope she will have to rectify the blunder from her wages; she was so impertinent.
Miss Carlton-Pell.—Yes, indeed!
Mrs. Carlton-Pell.—I was very forbearing in the matter, for a word to the floor-walker would have procured her instant dismissal. Plush & Satin are too politic to have any difficulty with me.
Miss Carlton-Pell.—Where do we go now?
Mrs. Carlton-Pell.—I want to show for five minutes at a business meeting of the Society for the Amelioration of the Condition of Shop Girls.
Miss Carlton-Pell.—Long enough to leave a subscription, I suppose?
Mrs. Carlton-Pell.—No, indeed! They use my name at the head of their list of directors, which is quite enough.
***
Miss Carlton-Pell.—Your five minutes were nearly ten, mama. Did I hear you tell James to drive to Tiffany's?
Mrs. Carlton-Pell.—Yes; I want to order that set of champagnes for Edith Sanger.
Miss Carlton-Pell.—I thought you did.
Mrs. Carlton-Pell.—No; I looked at them, but they are rather expensive—eighty-five dollars—and I wanted to find out, if possible, what the Tolcotts would give.
Miss Carlton-Pell.—Did you?
Mrs. Carlton-Pell.—Yes; a pair of Sèvres plates. That decided me.
Miss Carlton-Pell.—It would never do to let their present rank yours.
Mrs. Carlton-Pell.—Of course not. By the way, while we are out, your father wants me to select a wedding-gift for one of his book-keepers.
Miss Carlton-Pell.—What do you suppose such people want?
Mrs. Carlton-Pell.—Oh, I don't know. I shall not give much thought to it. A syrup-jug, or a butter-dish, perhaps.
Miss Carlton-Pell.—But suppose they should not be going to set up housekeeping?
Mrs. Carlton-Pell.—Well, they ought; it is much more sensible.
***
Mrs. Carlton-Pell.—Now, we must drive up to the Orphanage. As head of the Board of House Managers I must stop the leakage going on in the Commissary Department.
Miss Carlton-Pell.—Who is wasteful?
Mrs. Carlton-Pell.—That matron. I have no confidence in her. Her report shows an excess of one and a half pounds of sugar over last month.
Miss Carlton-Pell.—Why, mama, I thought you considered Miss Kendall a paragon of excellence!
Mrs. Carlton-Pell.—Miss Kendall wasn't appointed. Mrs. Van Courtland got her protégée, that silly little widow, in the place.
Miss Carlton-Pell.—You give so much time to it I should think you ought to have your wishes consulted.
Mrs. Carlton-Pell.—They understand now that I must have my wishes consulted. Mrs. Van Courtland presumes too much on her five-hundred-dollar New-Year's donation.
Miss Carlton-Pell.—And you sent two great bundles of the children's outgrown clothing at Christmas!
Mrs. Carlton-Pell.—Yes; and disposed of boxes for the concert from my house. It's the way of the world, my dear—quiet, unostentatious work is seldom appreciated.
***
Mrs. Carlton-Pell.—Home, James! I'm quite fagged with all I've accomplished this morning.
Miss Carlton-Pell.—I believe, mama, you may drop me at Kitty's. I want to tell her that I've been asked to stand with Clara; she was so hoping that she would be, you know.
