Billie Bradley and the School Mystery: or, The Girl From Oklahoma

The barber bowed them out with Latin gallantry – they being the only customers in his shop at the time – and Billie led her protégé to one of Fleetsburg’s best department stores.

There they entered into an orgy of buying.

Edina, bewildered, silent, left it to Billie to do all the work, merely signifying by a nod of the head when appealed to that everything was proceeding to her satisfaction.

“Something for yourself, Miss?” the saleswoman asked Billie, with a hopeful smile. “I have some sweet little new fall models that will exactly suit your type.”

Billie smiled and shook her head.

“I’m not doing a scrap of buying for myself to-day. Everything must be for the young lady,” indicating the tongue-tied Edina. “And we want everything, from undies to hats.”

The saleswoman glanced dubiously at the dowdy figure of the girl from Oklahoma.

“Everything must be simple, but smart,” Billie continued. “A complete ensemble first of all, if you please – dress, coat, hat. We will pick out the shoes and stockings later.”

The saleswoman’s deference returned. Here was a young person who knew what she wanted, even though her companion did look like some one’s poverty-stricken cousin.

“This way, please!” said she.

The next moment Edina found herself in a tiny cubicle just large enough to admit her and Billie, a chair or two, a tiny table and the saleswoman.

The saleswoman, en route, had picked up two frocks and a coat of soft, rich-looking material.

“Take off your things, Edina,” directed Billie, beginning to enjoy herself thoroughly. “This coat is adorable. I’d love it myself. What are you waiting for?” as Edina continued to regard her in a dazed way and made no motion to remove her dowdy cloak.

“You don’t mean I’ve got to – to undress here – before a stranger?” stammered Edina and flushed crimson at the saleswoman’s momentary and involuntary giggle.

Billie ached to echo the giggle but she only said gravely:

“Only to your slip, Edina. And we’re all girls together. What difference can it make?”

As at the moment before they entered the barber shop, Billie had the impression that Edina was about to balk. She favored her protégé with a severe look and waggled a finger beneath Edina’s decided nose.

“You do as I say, young lady, or back we go to Three Towers with only a haircut to show for our pains.”

Edina hesitated, glanced appealingly at a ruthless Billie – and capitulated.

Off came the heavy coat. After considerable unhooking and unbuttoning, off came the heavy dress as well. Beneath the dress, Edina wore, not a slip, but a starched, old-fashioned petticoat!

Billie could not surpass an exclamation of dismay.

“Edina, you don’t mean to say you wear those things!”

Instantly she regretted her tactless speech. Edina’s crimsoned face grew redder. She bit her lip and turned away and Billie caught the gleam of tears in her eyes.

“Maw fixed ’em for me. She thought they was grand. I’m sorry if you think they are somethin’ to – laugh at.”

Instantly Billie’s contrite arm was about the girl’s shoulders.

“Dear Edina, I wasn’t laughing, truly, and I’m dreadfully sorry for being so rude. It’s only that a slinky, soft silk slip sets off your dresses so much better than a petticoat. Dresses are slinky these days too, you know. Still, if you prefer the petticoat – ”

“I don’t!” Edina had fought a battle with herself and was willing to acknowledge defeat. “Maw would want me to have what was right. She wasn’t sure herself about the petticoats. You go ahead and tell me what to get. I’ll do as you say about everything.”

“Good girl! Then the first thing for you to do is take off that petticoat.”

After a short, inward struggle, Edina obeyed and stood before the amused saleswoman and an interested Billie in a chemise and a pair of ruffled knickers. Billie was glad to see that, relieved of the greater part of her starched and bulky wearing apparel, Edina was slim. The saleswoman, too, was astonished.

“I brought you size eighteen and I guess you don’t take any more than a sixteen,” said she. “Well, we can try these on anyway, and see how you like the style.”

Over Edina’s dark, sleek head, the saleswoman slipped a one-piece sports frock, beige in color and elaborately simple in design.

It was too big for the girl, but one glance was sufficient to assure both Billie and the saleswoman that color and design were just right.

“I’ll get her size in that,” said the saleswoman to Billie, and disappeared.

Edina turned this way and that before the long mirror. She glanced appealingly at Billie.

“It looks grand – but it ain’t me. Seems like I got to live with a stranger before I git used to myself.”

“A mighty nice stranger, though. In that get-up, you’re stunning, Edina – no other word to describe you.”

Edina’s pleasure in the praise was almost pathetic.

“You really think I look nice?”

“Stunning was the word I used,” cried Billie gaily. “And wait till you see the rest of the things we are going to get for you, Edina Tooker. Why, you don’t know the half of it!”

Before Edina could think of a reply to this cheerful prophecy, the saleslady returned. Over her arm were half a dozen frocks, size sixteen, two adorable coats and a shower of soft satin, lace-trimmed underwear.

Edina gave a little gasp and, like any other normal girl with a love for “pretties,” seized a handful of the shimmering things and buried her face in them. When she looked up again, Billie knew that she had won her victory. The subtle magic, the touch of those lovely things, had accomplished more than all her arguments and pleading. From the moment, Edina was all girl, reveling in girlish things.

“I never knew just underclothes could be so purty,” she murmured, reluctantly relinquishing the armful of loveliness. “I’d ruther have them than all the coats and dresses.”

Billie laughed delightedly.

“I know how you feel. But, unfortunately, the dresses are a necessity. Now,” with a little wriggle of sheer delight, “let’s get on with the fitting.”

The magic of those silken underthings had done their subtle work. Edina warmed to the spirit of the occasion. As Billie watched her try on dress after dress it seemed to her that Edina’s very look softened; her nose became less dominant, her square chin less aggressive. In her eyes was a bemused, dreaming, feminine look that Billie had never seen in them before.

Billie thought of a phrase Amanda Peabody was fond of using. Edina had become “clothes-conscious.”

After an hour of sheer enjoyment, Edina threw an appealing glance toward Billie.

“They’re all so purty,” she breathed, “I don’t hardly know which to take.”

Billie chuckled.

“That’s easy! Why not take them all?”