Well, of course she was right. I considered it for a moment or two, then made apologies. "I'm sorry, but I'm a little nervous about this. But well, all right. I'm going to the Pacific coast cool and a little damp, I suppose. I'll be doing well, sort of a secretary, okay? And I don't know about the other. Casual I suppose. I don't think I should try an evening gown yet; I honestly don't know if I need one."

"That's better. Now we know what to look for." I was impressed by her quick grasp of things, as well as her clothes sense. She pointed out things to me that I hadn't realized from my brief reading. Sweaters and coordinated skirts, blouses — and here she made a great point of care in selecting them. According to her, only certain types could and should be worn by a person such as myself. I was surprised however at the immense latitude, for she bought cottons as well as silk, all manner of necklines and so on. At length I grasped the principles of tailoring as being the important thing, and I was pleased when she approved my choices. It was the same with dresses. She pointed out more things here, commenting on my purchases of the previous day. "You will probably find that you will not be able to wear the chiffon you bought yesterday: It takes a perfect figure to do it — and then it's questionable."

"Why did you sell it to me then?" I asked with some annoyance.

"That was yesterday." she replied glibly.

It was very late in the afternoon when we neared the store where we had both worked. "Let's go in." she urged. At my reluctance, she took my arm and said, "No one will ever recognize you. You're my cousin from out of town. But there's a dress upstairs you simply must buy. I nearly sold it yesterday, then decided to wait; after you came in · I had a feeling — well, you must see it.”

We went back to the fitting rooms and Beth brought out an evening gown and I put it on. That's actually the wrong expression. You might say that we came together, and something more. A slim shaft of purest silk, it had two wide straps, a moderate V in the front and it fitted like a glove. It was black -- not the dull black, but a living, glowing color that caught the light and hurled it back from a thousand points. There was, in addition a flowered blouson top that complemented the rest and gave it considerable versatility. It was simply magnificent, and as I looked at my reflection in the triple mirrors, a strange alchemy a symbiosis occurred between the garment and myself. I do not know how to express it, but it was as if the dress and myself came to life together and for the first time. I turned to Beth in order to express some part of what I felt. And she was smiling, a strange sort of smile as she said, "I was right."

4