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"But the clothes didn't make themselves."
"No, and none of us made them, either, although Bud said he could sew,
and insisted upon trying. He cut up several yards of cloth, and at the
end of the week, when we saw the product of his needle, he narrowly
escaped lynching. If Lilian had not interceded for Uncle Bud, of whom
she is very fond, I'm afraid we'd have no little Buddy now. No, we sent
down to Omaha for a dressmaker and boarded her in town until she had Lil
all fixed up, as becomes the heiress of the La Garita Mines."
"Whose idea is this way of making the things?" demanded Stella, who was
looking Lilian over with critical eyes.
"Oh, we all had a finger in it. I sent away for a lot of fashion
magazines and things of that sort, and we sat up nights as a board of
strategy and picked out the sort of thing we wanted, and I reckon there
isn't a better-dressed kid in the State."
"I agree with you. Well, Ted Strong, you're a constant wonder to me.
Where in the world did you learn to do all the things you do so well?"
"The honeyed flatterer.


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