“The dress must belong to Mademoiselle!  I could not have made such a fit if I had tried,” repeated the dressmaker.

“How much is the dress worth, Madame?” Harriet queried.

“Worth?  It is worth one hundred and fifty dollars!  But I will give the little frock away for fifty,” the dressmaker answered.

“Can’t you possibly buy it, child?” Harriet pleaded with Mollie.  “It is a perfectly wonderful bargain, and you are too lovely in it.  I just can’t bear to have you refuse it.”

“I am sorry, Harriet,” Mollie returned firmly.  “But I have not the money.  Won’t you please take the gown off me, Madame!”

“Your friend can take the frock from me now and pay me later.  It does not matter,” said the dressmaker.  “She can write home for the money.”

For one foolish moment Mollie did dream that she might write to her mother for the price of this darling blue frock.  Mollie was sure she had never desired anything so keenly in her life.  But in a moment Mollie came to her senses.  Where would her mother get such a large sum of money to send her?  It had been hard work for Mrs. Thurston to allow Barbara and Mollie the slight expenses of their trip to Washington.  No; the pretty gown was impossible!

“Do unbutton the gown for me, please, Harriet,” Mollie entreated.  “I really can’t buy it.”  Mollie felt deeply embarrassed, and was sorry she had allowed herself to be persuaded into trying on the gown.

“Mollie!” exclaimed Harriet suddenly.  “Don’t you have a monthly allowance?”

Mollie nodded her head.  Silly Mollie hoped Harriet would not ask her just what her allowance was.  For Mrs. Thurston could give her daughters only five dollars a month apiece for their pin money.

“Then I know just what to do,” Harriet declared.  “You must just buy this frock, Mollie dear.  I expect to have a dividend from some stock I own, and when it comes in, I shall pay Madame for the dress, and you can pay me back as it suits you.  Do please consent, Mollie.  Just look at yourself in the glass once more and I know you can’t resist my plan.”

Mollie did take one more peep at herself in the mirror.  But if she had only had more time to think, and Harriet and the dressmaker had not argued the point with her, she would never have fallen before her temptation.

“You are sure you won’t mind how long I take to pay you back, Harriet?” Mollie inquired weakly.

“Sure!” Harriet answered.

“All right then; I will take it,” Mollie agreed in a sudden rush of recklessness, feeling dreadfully excited.  For little Mollie Thurston had never owned a gown in her life that had cost more than fifteen dollars, except the two or three frocks which had been given to her on different occasions.

“Madame, you will send Miss Thurston’s gown with mine, so she can wear it to the White House reception,” Harriet insisted.

“Certainly; I shall send the frocks this evening,” the dressmaker agreed, suavely.  “But are you sure you will be in?  I want you to be at home when the frocks arrive.”