D'vorahDavida
Yetzirah

Chapter One here:   http://www.deardiary.org/yetzirah/2013/08/05/i-couldnt-stop-her-2/   Chapter Two:   http://www.deardiary.org/yetzirah/2013/08/26/violet-winslow-2/   Chapter Three   She woke with a start. A horse was whinnying in the street below. Violet lay very still, and closed her eyes, hoping against hope she would wake up again in her little room above the florist shop. But, as the moments ticked by, and other horse and buggy sounds drifted through the window, no such welcome event occurred. A cascade of disjointed, half formed thoughts flew through her mind and when the last one plopped on the floor of her muddled consciousness, it turned out to be.... “Let’s roll with it.” She flipped the covers back and stood up stretching her arms over her head, suddenly realizing she was famished. She wasn’t sure what the eating arrangements were around here for breakfast, and wasn’t in the mood to wait around to find out. Violet started putting on her complicated clothing, only to find that she could not possibly fit into the dress she had taken off yesterday without that corset. So off the dress came. As she stood flipping the complex looking contraption back and forth, there came a knock at her door. She walked over to it in her underthings and opened it a crack to see a petite girl in a maid’s uniform. “Good morning Miss Winslow, are you ready to dress?” she asked in a timid squeak. Violet blinked. “Your timing is impeccable.” The girl helped her with the corset, then her dress and nipped off down the hall, presumably to help the next unfortunate woman who could not start her day without assistance getting into her own clothing. Violet made a decision right then.   ***   Downstairs, she found the dinning room where they were serving breakfast. She made a hearty meal and then went to ask the desk clerk about dressmakers. Having gotten directions, she stepped out onto the busy street and eventually found ‘The Misses Maplesden’ dress shop. The bell rang over the door as she entered and out from behind a curtained doorway came Miss Patricia Maplesden. “May I help you dear?” she asked with a pleasant smile. Violet handed her the portion of Dunbar’s list that pertained to clothing, and said, “I’ll be needing these things as soon as humanly possible. I must leave on my journey in a few day’s time.” Miss Patricia looked at the list and her eyebrows went up. “Well, I have a few seamstresses I employ for occasions like this, Miss?...” “Winslow.” “Miss Winslow, but I’m afraid it will add considerably to the cost. My sister and I cannot get all this done so quickly. “I don’t think that will be a problem.” said Violet, as she handed over a healthy portion of the notes that Cornelius had given her. Miss Patricia’s eyebrows went up again, this time accompanied by widened eyes. “I see, very well. Can you just come into the dressing room so I can take your measurements?” Violet followed her into a small room that had a little platform to stand on. “I’m not particular about style, Miss Maplesden, but there’s one thing we must have clear. There will be no corsets.” The poor woman’s eyebrows couldn’t find any higher ground on her forehead, so she was forced to open her mouth and utter a delicate, “Oh?” “That’s right. So let’s take my measurements without it shall we?  And Miss Maplesden, I want you to make me something that looks like this.” Violet handed her a slip of paper with the detailed drawing of her best rendition of a sports bra, with the closest thing she could think of to elastic that involved strategically placed drawstrings. Not one to shirk a challenge, Miss Patricia studied the drawing carefully. “Darts. Here, and here.” Violet pointed out. “I see Miss Winslow. A very interesting garment, very interesting indeed. I’ll do my best.” “Would you send someone around to the Blake Hotel when everything is ready?” Violet asked. “Certainly Miss Winslow. We will start right away.” They finished their business and Violet swept out of the shop. Not two minutes later, Miss Maggie Maplesden entered, carrying a cloth covered basket. She found her sister with her chin propped in her hands, elbows on the counter, studying a bit of paper. “What do you have there Patricia?” she asked as she took off her bonnet. “I’m not exactly sure Maggie, but I think I want one.”   Violet ended her morning’s work by leaving the rest of the list of supplies at the local mercantile with instructions that she would collect the items in a few days. She then decided to take a long walk before lunch to distract herself from the growing desire to poke her nose into The Book. After all, Dunbar was nowhere to be seen. What harm could it do? It was HER book wasn’t it? She would read it if she wanted to.  Besides, she thought she was being quite adult about this whole thing. Not having fits of the vapors because she had been thrown into another time. Yes, by Jupiter, she must be made of pretty stern stuff to be able to go through this with such aplomb. She put her chin in the air and marched toward the city park with an air of someone who had made up their mind.   Foolish girl.