debutantes; Camille, who had introduced the slouch, revived
the hoop, discovered the sunset chiffon, had actually
consented to design six models every season for the mail
order millions of the Haynes-Cooper women's dress
department--at a price that made even Michael Fenger wince.



CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Fanny Brandeis' blouses showed real Cluny now, and her hats
were nothing but line. A scant two years before she had
wondered if she would ever reach a pinnacle of success lofty
enough to enable her to wear blue tailor suits as smart as
the well-cut garments worn by her mother's friend, Mrs. Emma
McChesney. Mrs. McChesney's trig little suits had cost
fifty dollars, and had looked sixty. Fanny's now cost one
hundred and twenty-five, and looked one hundred and twenty-
five. Her sleeves alone gave it away. If you would test
the soul of a tailor you have only to glance at shoulder-
seam, elbow and wrist. Therein lies the wizardry. Fanny's
sleeve flowed from arm-pit to thumb-bone without a ripple.
Also she moved from the South side to the North side, always
a sign of prosperity or social ambition, in Chicago. Her
new apartment was near the lake, exhilaratingly high,
correspondingly expensive. And she was hideously lonely.
She was earning a man-size salary now, and she was working
like a man. A less magnificently healthy woman could not
have stood the strain, for Fanny Brandeis was working with
her head, not her heart. When we say heart we have come to