Alexander was still asleep when she left the house, feeling decidedly self-conscious in the vintage dress Julie had insisted she wear. It was an Edwardian afternoon gown, formal enough for a modern wedding, with a high, boned collar and a semi-train edged with lace. Karen had spent much of her spare time that week washing and ironing and mending and altering the dress. It was still too tight, but, she thought hopefully, not quite as tight as it had been when she first tried it on. One of Julie's customers was coming in from Potomac to see the dress and the other gowns Karen carried, chastely enclosed in a garment bag.
Karen had to give Julie credit. It was decent of her to let an employee use the premises to sell her own merchandise. Not that Julie's motives were entirely altruistic. She got her cut. Besides, Mrs. Mac had graciously allowed Julie to acquire a few bits of bric-a-brac, china, and crystal. Julie hoped for more-much, much more. It had been her idea that Karen should model her wares whenever possible, and Karen had been forced to agree that it never hurt to advertise.
In fact, she attracted less attention than she had expected. Georgetown was blase about unusual costumes. A few people stared, and one girl stopped her to ask where she had bought the dress. So Julie was right, Karen thought; one potential customer in a three-block walk wasn't bad.
Her positive mood didn't last, though; Julie's behavior that afternoon would have driven a saint to homicide. She showered Karen with instructions as confused as they were impossible to carry out; and when, for the sixth or seventh time, she clutched her flyaway hair and moaned, "Oh, God, I must be crazy to leave town!" Karen's temper snapped.
"Then don't. Lord knows I've got enough to do without running your business for you!"
"Oh, sweetie, don't pay any attention to me," Julie cried. "You know how I am-"
"To my sorrow. You don't even need me, Rob could handle things here. And if an emergency should arise, you're only a few hours away."
"Don't you dare call unless it's a real emergency." Julie's eyes took on a faraway look. "I have a really interesting two weeks planned, if you know what I mean."
"Nothing will go wrong," Karen said. "Why don't you leave right now? You aren't accomplishing anything except driving both of us up the wall."
"And me," came a voice from the rear of the shop. "Listening to you two screaming at each other is absolutely shattering my nerves. I shall burst into tears if I hear one more unkind word."
Julie paid no attention to this pathetic speech. She glanced at her watch. "I can't leave until Mrs. Schwarz comes, she'd be horribly offended. Damn the woman, where is she? She said three, and it's already three-thirty."
Mrs. Schwarz arrived at 4:10, apologizing and complaining about the traffic on the bridge. It was a handy excuse for anyone coming into the District, because it was usually true.
She shrieked with rapture at Karen's dress and asked to try it on. Karen complied, though one look at Mrs. Schwarz's comfortable contours convinced her the customer hadn't a prayer of getting into the dress. She did get into it, with a great deal of assistance from Julie and Karen, and the collapse of only one side seam. However, the dress refused to meet at the back.
Mrs. Schwarz said wistfully, "Perhaps if I wore a tighter girdle…"
"I'm afraid not," Karen said, looking at the six-inch gap.
"You couldn't let it out?"
"I've let it out as far as it will go." Karen added, "I shouldn't wear it either; it was made for a girl with a tiny waist and hardly any bust. You know, it's impossible to wear clothing like this if it's even the teeniest bit too small. The fabric is old and fragile, and the styles weren't designed for active women."
"I suppose you're right." Mrs. Schwarz was appeased by the tactful phrase "teeniest bit too small," though it most certainly did not apply in her case. "Oh, well, such is life. I hope I haven't damaged the dress, dear. If I have, I'll be happy to pay-"
"No, that's all right," Karen said, carefully skinning the dress over Mrs. Schwarz's head. "One of the seams gave a little, that's all. I just basted it."
"Oh, you do your own alterations? That's nice to know. I must tell my friends about you."
Mrs. Schwarz bought one of the other dresses, a turn-of-the-century day dress of gold linen, hand-embroidered at the neck and hem. After she had departed in triumph, promising a return visit when Karen had more clothes ready, Karen stared in disbelief at Mrs. Schwarz's check. It was made out for two hundred and fifty dollars.
"I wouldn't have dared ask that much," she exclaimed. "I must say, Julie, I admire your nerve."
"You won't get prices like that out in the boonies," Julie said sourly. "That's fifty you owe me. I ought to get more, actually, since I set the price, but since it's you…"
"She must be crazy," Karen said. "The dress didn't even look good on her."
"That may be your opinion and it may be mine, but I suggest you keep such opinions to yourself. And remember, don't accept a check from anyone except the people on that list I gave you. Not even if the customer arrives in a chauffeur-driven Mercedes and is swathed in mink. Some of the richest people are the biggest crooks."
"I remember."
"And if I find a charge that hasn't been okayed, I'll take it out of your salary."
"All right, all right!"
Julie wrung her hands. "Oh, God! I must be mad to do this!"
Chapter FOUR
BY the time she finally persuaded Julie to leave, Karen had a splitting headache. Almost immediately Rob pranced away, golden curls agleam-"I anticipate a most interesting evening, my dear; I must save my strength!"- leaving the task of locking up to Karen. It was a complex procedure, involving an alarm system and an arrangement of steel grilles, and she performed it with painstaking concentration. It did not improve her mood to realize that if Rob's evening was as interesting as he hoped, he would probably be late to work next day.
As she headed homeward, holding her flounces high above the dirty sidewalk, she wondered uneasily what Alexander had been up to during her absence. Mrs. MacDougal let him roam freely among her treasures, and even Rachel admitted grudgingly that he was not destructive; but it was impossible to predict what he might do in a new environment, particularly if he resented the change.
Karen's steps quickened, even though she knew it was silly to hurry now. Alexander had had all afternoon to work his will.
He was not on the hearthrug, nor was that precious article damaged except for the inevitable accumulation of dog hair. Karen called. There was no answer.
She found Alexander in the kitchen standing by the back door. It wasn't difficult to deduce what he wanted, and she praised him effusively as she let him out. By a simple twitch of his shoulders Alexander expressed his contempt for this transparent attempt to win his approval.
He seemed content to stay outside, so Karen thankfully removed her elaborate and uncomfortable dress and settled down at the kitchen table with a glass of iced tea and the mail. Most of it was for Pat-professional journals, appeals for money from various causes worthy and unworthy, and a few bills. Karen put these aside to be dealt with later; her aunt and uncle had set up an account in her name so that she could pay the household expenses. She drew on it for her own needs, because she had to- the wages Julie gave her barely covered expenses-but she was keeping track of everything she spent on herself, with the intention of paying it back as soon as she could.
The only thing for her was a letter from a lawyer in Dubuque. It was the fourth such epistle she had received. She had not opened any of them, and after hesitating for a moment, she laid this one aside. Her headache was subsiding, but she was in no mood to cope with the painful emotions the letter would undoubtedly arouse. Except for the brief note in the box of her clothes, Jack had not communicated directly with her. Perhaps it was unfair to blame him. She hadn't written or called him either.