Margots Scheme

The sisters repaired to Edgware Road, and after much searching finally
ran to earth a desirable hat for at least the odd farthing less than it
would have cost round the corner in Oxford Street. This saving would
have existed only in imagination to the ordinary customer, who is
presented with a paper of nail-like pins, a rusty bodkin, or a highly-
superfluous button-hook as a substitute for lawful change; but Margot
took a mischievous delight in collecting farthings and paying down the
exact sum in establishments devoted to eleven-threes, to the disgust of
the young ladies who supplied her demands.

The hat was carried home in true Bohemian fashion, encased in a huge
paper bag, and a happy hour ensued, when the contents of the scrap-box
were scattered over the bed, and a dozen different effects studied in
turn. Edith sat on a chair before the glass with the skeleton frame
perched on her head at the accepted fashionable angle, criticising fresh
draperies and arrangement of flowers, and from time to time uttering
sharp exclamations of pain as Margot's actions led to an injudicious use
of the dagger-like pins. Her delicate finely-cut face and misty hair
made her a delightful model, and she smiled back at the face in the
mirror, reflecting that if you happened to be a pauper, it was at least
satisfactory to be a pretty one, and that to possess long, curling
eyelashes was a distinct compensation in life. Margot draped an old
lace veil over the hard brim, caught it together at the back with a
paste button, and pinned a cluster of brown roses beneath the brim, with
just one pink one among the number, to give the cachet to the whole.