6.

 

 

 

THE DRESSMAKERS BROUGHT OUT THEIR FABRICS, and consulted among themselves as to the nature and scope of their undertaking. Madouc, still smarting from Queen Sollace’s deprecatory instructions, listened with head cocked sidewise. At last she intervened. “You are talking for naught! I want none of your sallow yellows or pasty ecrus or horse-vomit greens, and you must reconsider your styles!”

Hulda, the senior seamstress, spoke with concern. “How so, Your Highness? We are bound to sew what is genteel and suitable!”

“You are bound to sew what I will consent to wear; otherwise your work will be wasted.”

“Of course, Your Highness! We want you to be happy and at ease in your garments!”

“Then you must sew as I direct. I will not wear these blooming pantaloons or these bloodless bodices that you are discussing.”

“Ah, Your Highness, these are what young maidens of your age are wearing.”

“That is the least of my concerns.”

Hulda sighed. “Ah well, then! How does Your Highness wish to be dressed?”

Madouc indicated a bolt of cornflower blue and another of nubbled white linen. “Use this and this. And here: what is this?” She pulled from the case a somewhat scant bolt of dark red velvet, soft of texture, of color so deep as to verge upon black.

“That is a hue known as ‘Black Rose’,” said Hulda in a dispirited voice. “It is quite unsuitable for a person of your age, and also, it is little more than a scrap.”

Madouc paid no heed. “This is a most beautiful stuff. Also, there seems to be just enough to wrap around my skin.”

Hulda said hurriedly: “There is not enough cloth for a proper girl’s gown, with such pleats, flounces, swags, and fullness, as style and modesty dictate.”

“Then I will have a gown without these decorations, because I am ravished by the color.”

Hulda attempted expostulation, but Madouc would not listen. She pointed out that time was limited and that the gown of ‘Black Rose’ velvet must be cut and sewed before all else, and so it was, despite Hulda’s misgivings. “Truly, the material is scanty! The gown will fit you more explicitly than your age would seem to necessitate.”

“That is as may be,” said Madouc. “I believe the costume will have great charm, and for some strange reason the color is in accord with my hair.”

“I must admit that the gown will probably become you,” said Hulda grudgingly. “If in a manner somewhat premature.”