Despite herself, Rachel chuckled. “There’s only one way to find out,” she said with a smile. She nodded toward the fitting rooms that now were close by.
“You’re sure you wouldn’t mind…?” Lisa raised her eyebrows in question.
“No, go ahead,” Rachel suggested. She smiled and plopped her lithe frame into a heavily brocaded chair. “There’s no hurry—I’ll wait.”
“Oh, you’re a sweetie,” said Mrs. McEvers fondly, patting the girl on the soft top of her glossy raven mane. “I’ll just be a minute!” She set down beside Rachel the jacket, scarf, and hat they had chosen and then, with the chemise in one hand and her peculiarly oblong purse in the other, went in search of a salesgirl to open up one of the fitting rooms.
Rachel crossed her knees carefully and smoothed the brief hem of her skirt over
