Also, Radmore, almost in spite of himself, looked
opulent.
"I think I have the very thing!" she explained. "It's a little on the
fantastic side, and so only suits a certain type of face."
As she spoke she brought out a miniature brown poke bonnet which was
wreathed with one uncurled ostrich feather of a peculiar powder blue
tint. She put it deftly on Betty's head, then stepped back and gazed
delightedly into the smiling face and dancing eyes of her new client.
"I have kept this back," she began, "hoping I should come across a
bride-elect whom it might really suit, for it would make a perfect
'going-away' hat! But it is so extraordinarily becoming to _this_ lady,
that I feel I ought to let _her_ have it!"
She turned appealingly to Radmore, but Timmy intervened:--"That's not my
mother!" he cried, going off into fits of laughter. "We want a hat for my
_mother_. That's only my sister!"
The shop-lady looked vexed, and Radmore felt awkward. He realised that he
and Betty had been taken for husband and wife, Timmy for their spoilt
little boy.
"I'm quite sure I could find something that would suit Janet," exclaimed
Betty, hastily taking off the delightful bit of headgear.
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