After much discussion it was
agreed that Mrs. Bingham, the wife of the wine merchant, should call on
Mrs. Fairfax and inquire the price of a gown. Mrs. Bingham was at the
head of society in Langborough, and had the reputation of being very
clever. It was hoped, and indeed fully expected, that she would be able
to penetrate the mystery. She went, opened the door, a little bell
sounded, and Mrs. Fairfax presented herself. Mrs. Bingham's eyes fell
at once upon Mrs. Fairfax's dress. It was black, with no ornament, and
constructed with an accuracy and grace which proved at once to Mrs.
Bingham that its maker was mistress of her art. Mrs. Bingham, although
she could not entirely desert the linendraper's wife, whose husband was
a good customer for brandy, had some of her clothes made in London when
she stayed with her sister in town, and, to use her own phrase, "knew
what was what."
"Mrs. Fairfax?"
A bow.
"Will you please tell me what a gown would cost made somewhat like that
in the window?"
"For yourself, madam?"
"Yes."
"Pardon me; I am afraid that colour would not suit you.
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