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The sister of Mrs. Tarleton was in raptures with the head-dress.

“It is right down mean and selfish in Mrs. Bates not to let you have the pattern,” she said. “What a vain woman she must be. I always thought better of her.”

“So did I. But this shows what she is.”

“If I were you,” remarked the sister, “I would have it in spite of her. It isn’t her pattern, that she need pretend hold it so exclusively. It is a Paris fashion, and any body else may get it just as well as she. She has no property in it.”

“No, of course not.”

“Then while you have the chance, take it to Madame Pinto and get her to make you one exactly like it.”

“I have a great mind to do it; it would serve her perfectly right.”

“I wouldn’t hesitate a moment,” urged the sister. “At the last party, Mrs. Bates managed to have on something new that attracted every one and threw others into the shade, I wouldn’t let her have another such triumph.”

Thus urged by her sister, Mrs. Tarleton yielded to the evil counsel, which was seconded by her own heart. The head-dress was taken to Madame Pinto, who, after a careful examination of it, said that she would make one exactly similar for Mrs. Tarleton. After charging the milliner over and over again to keep the matter a profound secret, Mrs. Tarleton went away and returned the head-dress to Mrs. Bates. It had been in her possession only a couple of hours.

Mrs. Pinto was a fashionable milliner and dress maker, and was patronized by the most fashionable people in the city, Mrs. Bates among the rest. The latter had called in the aid of this woman in the preparation of various little matters of dress to be worn at the party. Three or four days after Mrs. Tarleton’s visit to Mrs. Pinto with the head-dress, Mrs. Bates happened to step in at the milliner’s, who, during their consultation, about little matters of dress, drew the lady aside, saying–“I’ve got something that I know I can venture to show you.–It’s for the party, and the loveliest thing you ever saw.”

As she said this she took from a box a facsimile of Mrs. Bates’ own beautiful head-dress, and held it up with looks of admiration.

“Isn’t it sweet?” she said.

“It is the most beautiful head-dress I ever saw,” replied Mrs. Bates, concealing her surprise. “Who is it for?”

“It’s a secret, but I can tell you. It is for Mrs. Tarleton.”

“Ah! Where did she get the pattern?”

“I don’t know; she brought it here, but said she couldn’t leave it for the world. I had to study it all out, and then make it from my recollection of the pattern.”

“The pattern did not belong to her?”

“Oh, no. Somebody had it who was going to show it off at the party, she said; but she meant to surprise her.”

“Have you any new patterns for head-dresses not chosen by the ladies who have made selections of you for Mrs. Liston’s party?” asked Mrs. Bates, not seeming to notice the reply of Mrs. Pinto.

“Oh, yes, ma’am, a good many,” and half-a-dozen really handsome head-dresses were shown–none, however, that pleased her half so well as the one she was about throwing aside. She suited herself from the assortment shown her, and directed it to be sent home.

Mrs. Bates felt justly outraged at the conduct of Mrs. Tarleton, but she did not speak of what had taken place, except to one or two very intimate friends and to her husband. The evening of the party at length arrived. Mrs. Tarleton was there a little earlier than Mrs. Bates, in all the glory of her ungenerous triumph. The beautiful head-dress she wore attracted every eye, and in the admiration won by the display of her taste, she lost all the shame she had felt in anticipation of meeting Mrs. Bates, to whom her meanness and dishonesty would be at once apparent.