"The thought is worthy of you, Helen," said Ruth proudly. "You always
do have the nicest ideas. And I am sure it will please Wonota to be
dressed as were some of the girls we saw in the audiences at the
theatres we took her to."

"But!" ejaculated Jennie Stone, "we can't possibly get that sort of
clothes out of a mail-order catalog."

"I know just what we can do, Jennie. There is your very own
dressmaker--that Madame Joné you took me to."

"Oh! Sure! Mame Jones, you mean!" cried the fleshy girl with enthusiasm.
"Aunt Kate has known Mame since she worked as an apprentice with some
Fifth Avenue firm. Now Madame Joné goes to Paris--when there is no war
on--twice a year. She will do anything I ask her to."

"That is exactly what I mean," Helen said. "It must be somebody who will
take an interest in Wonota. Send your Madame Joné a photograph of
Wonota--"

"Several of them," exclaimed Ruth, interested as well, although
personally she did not care so much for style as her chums. "Let the
dressmaker get a complete idea of what Wonota looks like."

"And the necessary measurements," Helen said. "Give her _carte blanche_
as to goods and cost--"

"Would that be wise?" interposed the more cautious Ruth.

"Leave it to me!" exclaimed Jennie Stone with confidence. "We shall