Miss Lillie took it with a languid little yawn, finished the last sentences in a chapter of the novel she was reading, and then leisurely broke the seal and glanced it over.

It was the one that the enraptured John had spent his morning in writing.
"Miss Ellis, now, if you'll try on this jacket--oh! I beg your pardon," said Miss Clippins, observing the letter, "we can wait, _of course_;" and then all three laughed as if something very pleasant was in their minds.
"No," said Lillie, giving the letter a toss; "it'll _keep_;" and she stood up to have a jaunty little blue jacket, with its pluffy bordering of swan's down, fitted upon her.
"It's too bad, now, to take you from your letter," said Miss Clippins, with a sly nod.
"I'm sure you take it philosophically," said Miss Nippins, with a giggle.
"Why shouldn't I ?" said the divine Lillie.

"I get one every day; and it's all the old story.

I've heard it ever since I was born." "Well, now, to be sure you have.

Let's see," said Miss Clippins, "this is the seventy-fourth or seventy-fifth offer, was it ?" "Oh, you must ask mamma! she keeps the lists: I'm sure I don't trouble my head," said the little beauty; and she looked so natty and jaunty when she said it, just arching her queenly white neck, and making soft, downy dimples in her cheeks as she gave her fresh little childlike laugh; turning round and round before the looking-glass, and issuing her orders for the fitting of the jacket with a precision and real interest which showed that there _were_ things in the world which didn't become old stories, even if one had been used to them ever since one was born.
Lillie never was caught napping when the point in question was the fit of her clothes.
When released from the little blue jacket, there was a rose-colored morning-dress to be tried on, and a grave discussion as to whether the honiton lace was to be set on plain or frilled.
So important was this case, that mamma was summoned from the sewing-machine to give her opinion.