“Oh, I see. I'm sorry to rush you, but—"

“I know. The fitting.”

Jane showed her to the big upstairs room where Mrs. Crossthwait had been installed. Layla and Shelley were there as well, apparently out of sheer boredom. Kitty stripped down to her slip and tried on the jacket of her boxy suit. It was really enormously flattering to her chunky figure. Mrs. Crossthwait fussed about, measuring and turning the sleeves and pinning them in place.

“Is that all that remains to do?" Jane asked loudly.

“That and the skirt hem," Mrs. Crossthwait said. "Take off the jacket, dear.”

Kitty slipped the skirt on and fumbled at the back of the skirt waistband for the button.

“I'll do that, dear," Mrs. Crossthwait said. "Hmmm. You've put on a bit of weight, haven't you?"

“I have not. You must have put the button inthe wrong place." Kitty looked extremely embarrassed at having her figure criticized while she was standing around in her slip in front of strangers.

“I never mismeasure," Mrs. Crossthwait said firmly. "I'll have to let out a little of the ease and move the button.”

Jane almost groaned out loud. More alterations. More delay.

“Shelley, could you help me make up the rest of the beds?" she asked.

“I'll help," Layla said.

“No, this smacks of housework. You're on vacation. Work on your jigsaw puzzle.”

Jane was surprised and delighted to find that most of the little monk cells now had casual flower arrangements on the bedside tables. "I guess Larkspur has been busy," she said. "How pretty they are!"

“Did I hear my name being taken in vain?" Larkspur said from the doorway.

“These arrangements are marvelous. We hadn't talked about them in our planning, though.”