The senior student nodded, winking as he turned to go inside. “Never hurts to butter up the sponsors,” he murmured.
Casey followed Mrs. Herceforth into her carriage, not missing her order to the driver to take them “home.” “Mrs. Herceforth?” she said weakly, but her anxiety was waved down.
“It’s not far, dear. You’ll see.”
It wasn’t far, either. In ten minutes, during which Mrs. Herceforth kept up a running commentary about the buildings they passed and the people who lived or worked inside them, they drove through a large, formal garden of cut grass, trimmed hedges and roses, stopping in front of a three-story mansion, covered with ivy, and complete with white columns gracing the front. The driver helped them down and Casey followed her hostess into the house, where she was ushered through a cavernous front hall and up a wide, carpeted stairway, past a chandelier over a story tall. They entered a lavish bedroom while Mrs. Herceforth called for “Daisy.” Casey had no time to ogle the furnishings, which surely belonged in a palace, for Daisy came immediately, her maid’s uniform immaculate. She curtsied, eyes flicking a critical perusal over Casey’s working clothes. “Yes, ma’am?”
“Oh there you are, Daisy. Please pull out the dresses that Miss Olmstead left here.” Mrs. Herceforth turned to Casey, beaming with pleasure. “My niece from Kilkenny recently stayed with me, and she did quite a bit of shopping while she was in Belfast. She didn’t take everything back with her, and I’ll be amazed if you are not exactly her size. In fact, I have in mind the exact—ah, here we are!” She turned to Daisy who had emerged from an armoire with several dresses in her arms. Without hesitation, she reached over and snagged the dress that was second from the top and held it up for Casey to see.
Casey could only stare. It was the prettiest dress she’d ever seen. The material looked like silk with a chiffon layer, a very pale sea green with a darker green pattern woven sparingly throughout. The sleeves were long and slender, the collar a V-neck with a faint bit of lace in the ‘V.’ The skirt was flared slightly from the waist. It had none of the yards and yards of material Casey had noted at the dance, and which she had instinctively decided would be “too much” for a dinner.
Mrs. Herceforth nodded smartly at her expression. “Daisy, let’s help Miss Wilson try this on. We must be sure.”
Expression neutral, Daisy immediately went to Casey’s aid, helping her undress. She sniffed in disapproval at the absence of a corset, but Mrs. Herceforth clapped her hands in delight. “Oh, it’s fine, Daisy. She’s much too thin to need a corset, anyway. I think she’s smart not to wear one. Dreadful things.”
Daisy was unconvinced, but Casey smiled slightly in vindication; she simply refused ever to wear one. Then the dress was on her, Daisy doing up the buttons in back and Mrs. Herceforth applying a smart brown belt to the waist. They stepped back, Mrs. Herceforth smiling grandly as she moved Casey in front of a mirror. Casey stared. She still was not used to women’s clothes in this era, and even the simple work clothes she wore made her feel dressed up. This though, this was a dress royalty could wear, if royalty wanted to appear confident and elegant. The green was the perfect shade for her coloring, and the dress fit as if it were made for her. Her eyes were greener than ever and the bodice emphasized her small bust in a way her twenty-first century outfits never did. She could just imagine the look that would be on Tom’s face, when he saw her.
Mrs. Herceforth gazed with a critical eye at Casey’s reflection, then nodded with approval. “All you’ll need is a hat and some gloves. Short gloves, dear, since the sleeves are long. A parasol would be nice, too, if you could find one the proper shade and with flowers. Do you have any other shoes?”
Casey nodded. “I have a nice pair that I wore for the dance the other night. I think they’ll work.”
Mrs. Herceforth nodded. “That’s fine, then. Daisy, let’s get her back into her clothes; I’m sure she needs to get back to work.”
Befuddled, Casey let them undress her and she slipped quickly back into her simple work clothes, as Mrs. Herceforth dismissed Daisy with instructions to pack the dress for Miss Wilson to take with her. When she turned to Casey, the twinkle was back in her eyes. “Now, dear, this is not charity. I’m afraid I have a price.”
Casey stood still, hands clasped in front of her. Her eyes flicked once after the dress. “I’ll pay it if I can.”
“Oh, it’s not difficult. Just have a seat and tell me about the young man. I promise I won’t gossip, but I do miss seeing the young people make their matches. Are you meeting his family at this dinner?”
Casey nodded.
“So you’re quite nervous, I take it?”
Another nod, and Mrs. Herceforth laughed gaily. “Oh this is marvelous. My dear, you are going to dazzle them, you know. I have always found you charming and well-behaved. Even the best families are usually satisfied with that, at least at dinner.”
Casey laughed, feeling a little better. “I suppose I should concentrate on just that, but I hope they like me for longer.”
“Who are they, dear?” As Casey hesitated, she reminded her, “I said I wouldn’t gossip.”
Casey stared at the carpet a moment. Was it okay to tell her? Would the Andrews family find out she bought her dress with gossip about them? Still, Mrs. Herceforth might have advice about the dinner, and she sure wasn’t going to get it from Sam. Or even from Tom, who couldn’t understand how intimidated she felt.
“The Andrews family. In Comber.”
After a minute of staring at Casey, Mrs. Herceforth blinked once, and took a breath. “Well. You have made an impact. But let’s see,” she tilted her head, “it’s not the youngest son. I don’t believe he’s yet twenty. And James lives in Dublin. The only other unmarried boy is…” her eyebrows rose, and she looked at Casey with something approaching profound respect. “Thomas? My dear, is the young man Thomas Andrews?”
Casey’s blush was all the answer Mrs. Herceforth needed and she once again clapped her hands gaily, this time adding an infectious laugh. “Marvelous! Dear Miss Wilson, you are going to turn this town on its ear! I believe several women have had their eyes on him for their own daughters!”
Casey’s voice was small. “Mrs. Herceforth? He hasn’t asked me to marry him or anything. He just wants me and Sam to meet his family.”
This was pooh-poohed. “Dear, you have to meet the family before he can propose. It wouldn’t be proper otherwise, and the Andrews’ are proper to a fault.” The head tilted again as the blue eyes regarded her, and Mrs. Herceforth nodded once. “I approve. I’ve known that boy since he was a boy and you, my dear, are perfect for him. I bet he adores you.”
Casey smiled shyly. “I hope so. I certainly adore him.” The confession filled her with momentary fear, which faded at the genuine smile on Mrs. Herceforth’s face.
“I’m so pleased, Miss Wilson. And I’m delighted I could help with the dress. It’s perfect for this. Thank you for asking me.” The head tilted again, modestly this time. “I’m always afraid I’m something of a pest, so you’ve really made my day by wanting my advice.”
“You are too kind to do all this for me. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it.” Impulsively, Casey hugged her and Mrs. Herceforth joyfully hugged her back.
“That dress is on an installment plan,” she stated playfully. “You’ll have to come back and tell me how the dinner went.”
Casey laughed. “I’ll do that.”
“Marvelous. Now, I really need to let you get back to work, and I wanted to look in on that new strain of azaleas. They seem to be quite vigorous.”
They discussed the plant while Casey received the dress from Daisy, and the driver helped both of them into the carriage for the trip back to the gardens.