If she lives to be a thousand, Tessie Gilfooly will never forget the day she spent shopping in the Evergreen. It was so vastly different from the days she had spent in the Evergreen selling aluminum.

"Get everything you want and what a queen should have," Mr. Kingley had said, even before he saw the check Mr. Marvin gave Tessie. "Shoes and hats and everything. Miss Morley will help you." And he sent for Miss Morley, who went to New York every month and had been to Paris twice, and so would know what queens should wear.

Tessie was considerably in awe of Miss Morley with her black hair swirled around her head, her face delicately painted, her black canton crepe—no cheap black sateen for Miss Morley—the latest thing in frocks. But Miss Morley was looking at her with such frank admiration that she dared to smile shyly as she blushed.

"It's awfully kind of you to help me," she even dared to say.

"I'll be glad to help you." Miss Morley smiled, too. "I never dressed a queen before, and it will be great fun. We'll begin at the very beginning because I expect that your underthings are no more royal than your outside clothes."

"I've always wanted silk things," apologized Tessie, her hands fluttering among the soft flesh-colored crepes and satins. She loved them. She wanted them all. She longed to feel the touch of them on her slim little body which had known only coarse cotton.

But Miss Morley pushed the lovely things contemptuously away. She even tilted her long aristocratic nose at them.

"They're all right for silly shopgirls and cheap persons," she declared scornfully, "but what a queen wants—oh, Rose, haven't you any linen, fine and sheer, hand-sewed and hand-hem-stitched?"

And when Miss Rose Beacon of the lingerie had produced a special box in which was linen, soft and fine, and enriched with much dainty hand-work, she drew a long breath.

"There!" She pushed the cobwebby things towards Tessie. "That's what queens wear!" She said it as positively as if she had dressed a queen every day of her life.

"But—" faltered Tessie, looking longingly at the flesh-colored satins and crepes.

"Half a dozen sets of these, Rose," ordered Miss Morley. "And as many gowns."

"And half a dozen sets of the satin, too," whispered Tessie, the minute Miss Morley turned her back. "I've always wanted silk underclothes, and now I'm going to have some even if all queens don't wear them. I guess I can afford them!"

It was the same all through the store. Tessie found what she had coveted and sighed over was not proper for a queen. She had to buy flat-heeled broad-toed shoes for walking, instead of the narrow-toed high heels for which her soul yearned.

"High heels for dress, low heels for the street. Don't ever make the mistake of wearing high heels on the street, Miss Gilfooly," advised Miss Morley. "They'll make you look cheap and common."

"No, ma'am," Tessie murmured meekly, but she privately resolved to wear her high heels when and where she pleased. Miss Morley would not be with her always. And how could high heels make any girl look cheap and common? They looked expensive and fine to Tessie's big blue eyes.

Miss Morley would not let her wear lace stockings with her street shoes, but demanded a plain heavy silk. The dark blue crepe frock which was finally chosen to cover the dainty camisole and plain dark blue bloomers, was as simple as a frock could be, but it was a French model and it made Tessie a very different girl from the one who had worn the old black sateen.

"Now," remarked Miss Morley when half a dozen frocks had been chosen, always the plainest and the simplest, "we'll go up to the third and have your hair dressed."

"I can do my own hair," Tessie exclaimed eagerly. She was aghast at the amount of money she had spent. Who ever would suppose that such plain things would cost so much?

"I said dressed," smiled Miss Morley. "You can do your hair like the shopgirls," she seemed to have a vast contempt for the way shopgirls dressed and did their hair, "but what you want is a simple coiffure—something royal!"

She told the astonished head of the hairdressing department what she thought would be simple and royal, and she stood beside Tessie while Mrs. Nelson took the buns from Tessie's ears, and redressed her hair in simple waves. Tessie had pretty hair with a soft natural curl in it, and she had a well-shaped head, although she had very successfully concealed that fact with her buns and her rolls. But the clever professional fingers made the most of her wavy hair and of the shape of her head.

"There!" Miss Morley approved of the result if Tessie did look at it a bit doubtfully and wonder if it could be all right. "Now for a manicure!"

When Miss Morley at last took Tessie down to show Mr. Kingley what could be done by the Evergreen, they met Mr. Bill on the threshold. He was trying to talk to Ka-kee-ta, who had reluctantly consented to wait for his queen in the office, and who only had grunts in answer to Mr. Bill's questions. Mr. Bill looked at Miss Morley and at Tessie. And he looked again at Tessie. Was it Tessie? Tessie blushed and dimpled.

"Well, I'll be darned!" he exclaimed unbelievingly. "If it isn't Queen Teresa! You certainly make one sweet peach of a queen!" He was quite scarlet and somewhat incoherent in his admiration.

"Clothes do make a difference, don't they, Mr. Bill?" asked Miss Morley, proud of what she had made of Tessie. "She looks quite smart now, doesn't she? I've been working over her all morning."

"Good work!" approved Mr. Bill. "I'll say she looks all right!" And his hearty admiration deepened the color in Tessie's cheeks as well as in his own face. Imagine Mr. Bill saying that Tessie Gilfooly looked all right! No wonder Tessie's face was pink, and her eyes shone.

Mr. Kingley admired Tessie also and told Miss Morley that she had done well—remarkably well.

"I knew the Evergreen could outfit a woman for any position," he said with great satisfaction. "You selected other garments than what she is wearing?"

"You said to fit her out appropriately but not foolishly." Miss Morley repeated the orders she had received. "I have chosen a couple of afternoon frocks, dinner gowns and evening gowns and a little jersey and a serge for day wear."

"And hats?" suggested Mr. Kingley. "A queen can't wear her crown all the time." And he laughed at his joke.

"And hats." Miss Morley was polite enough and clever enough to laugh with him. "And shoes and everything. She has a very complete little outfit."

"That's good. That's very good. You might collect the gowns and hats, Miss Morley, and make a little exhibition of them to-morrow before they are delivered. Miss Gilfooly can wait a day longer for them, and our customers will be interested in a royal wardrobe. Have Miss Lee run a little story in the Gazette. It isn't every store," he told them proudly, "that could fit out a queen at a moment's notice. You arrange a little exhibition, Miss Morley, and we'll invite Waloo to come and see it. You'll like that, my dear," he told Tessie, who was not sure that she would like it at all.

Joe Cary, bringing a message to Mr. Kingley from Mr. Maltby, the assistant advertising manager, who had been discharged from his jury, most certainly did not like it and he dared to say so.

"Your clothes belong to you, Tess. Don't you make a show of them," he advised in a whisper.

Mr. Kingley went on talking, and he sounded as though he had heard Joe's whisper, although he never looked at Joe.

"A queen owes that sort of thing to her people. They want show and celebration and pageants in return for their money. You must expect that now you are a queen," he told Tessie.

"Huh," sniffed Joe, and he spoke louder than perhaps he meant to speak, for Mr. Kingley looked at him.

"What did you say, Cary?" he asked sharply.

"Here are those proofs from the Gazette for the wash-goods sale," he said. "And as for queens and kings, the fewer there are, the better the world will be."

"This is no place for anarchism, Cary," Mr. Kingley told him coldly. "Go and tell Mr. Maltby I want to see him at once. And, Cary, you might make a little sketch of Miss Gilfooly as she is now and Maltby can run it with a line—'Royalty Clothed by the Evergreen'—under it. It will please the people, my dear. They'll like to come and buy where queens buy," he said shrewdly.

"Huh!" muttered Joe. "Don't you let them make a monkey of you for the old Evergreen, Tess," he whispered, as he went for his pencil and drawing board, after he had mastered his impulse to "punch old Kingley in the snout."

But Tessie never heard him. Joe and his mutters were an old story, but a new and very fascinating tale was the admiration of Mr. Bill and his father. She gladly agreed to everything that Mr. Kingley suggested.

"Of course," went on Mr. Kingley, with the zeal of an artist who wanted his work to be quite perfect, "of course you don't know anything about royal etiquette."

"Perhaps I could get a book in the book department," suggested Tessie meekly. Mr. Kingley was right. She knew absolutely nothing of how a queen should conduct herself, but if the Evergreen could clothe royalty, surely it could tell a queen how to behave.

Mr. Kingley shook his head. He did not believe there was such a volume among the thousands of books in the big department. Miss Morley shook her head, too. Mr. Bill just stood and stared at Tessie.

"There's old Madame Cabot!" suggested Miss Morley suddenly. "She was presented at court when she was a girl, and her uncle was minister to Italy. I read it in the Gazette in the story on her seventieth birthday. She could tell Miss Gilfooly the way the Queen of Italy did things. I should think that would help her."

"It undoubtedly would help her. You are very resourceful, Miss Morley—very resourceful." And Mr. Kingley showered Miss Morley with his august approval. "Bill, call up your mother and ask her to arrange to take Miss Gilfooly to see Madame Cabot as soon as possible."

"Shouldn't Madame Cabot call on the queen?" Mr. Bill did not want to take his eyes from Tessie to call up any one. He was perfectly satisfied to let matters remain as they were.

"Madame Cabot is an old lady, and under the circumstances I am sure that our queen will waive etiquette and go to her. It will be a great privilege to have her help. Madame Cabot is a great lady."

"I know!" Tessie was faint and breathless at the mere thought of going to see Madame Cabot. Tessie knew the aristocratic old lady by sight, but she had never sold her so much as a kitchen spoon. She was a little awed at the prospect of talking to her as queen to queen, but she bravely lifted her head and looked at Mr. Kingley. "It will be awfully kind of her to help me. I don't know anything," she admitted with a rosy shame which was adorable—at least, Mr. Bill thought it was adorable. "I had to leave school before I graduated from the high."

"You can learn. You can have teachers and learn," advised Mr. Kingley. "And Madame Cabot can help you if she will."

"If she only will!" breathed Miss Morley, and for the first time since she had been with Tessie, she seemed envious. She had not envied Tessie her new clothes nor her throne, but she did seem to envy her the possibility of a talk with Madame Cabot. "She knows! She has the most perfect manners! You'll be helped just by looking at her," she told Tessie.

Mr. Bill jeered. "That old dame," he began, but he was not allowed to go any farther.

"My son!" rebuked his scandalized father.

"Mr. Bill!" exclaimed Miss Morley, so aghast that her delicately tinted face acquired a lavender tint.

"Oh, all right," Mr. Bill said carelessly. "Only if you want my opinion, which of course isn't worth a bean to you, you'll leave Miss Gilfooly alone. She's all right as she is! My word, I should think she was! I suppose Madame Cabot is all right, too, but she's old and our little queen is young. What is all right for an old lady might be all wrong for a young one!"

Tessie's pink face grew pinker. She had not a word to say, she could only blush and dimple until Mr. Bill blushed, too.

"You call up your mother!" ordered Mr. Kingley curtly.

Tessie could scarcely breathe when Mr. Bill put her in the limousine beside his mother, while Ka-kee-ta slipped into the front seat, although the chauffeur looked at him out of the corner of a most scornful eye. Mr. Bill's mother was so proud and so haughty that Tessie had never expected to ride with her. Mrs. Kingley had never been in the hardware department while Tessie had been there, and Tessie had had only an occasional glimpse of her when she had been sent up from the basement on some errand. She had never imagined that she would ever be on friendly terms with her, and yet Mrs. Kingley seemed quite friendly. She smiled pleasantly—even cordially.

"And this is our little queen! No, Bill, your father would not want you to come with us! Surely you have work to do here!"

"Take Miss Gilfooly home to dinner, and I'll go back and see if I can find anything to do," suggested Mr. Bill, showing his firm white teeth in an appealing grin.

"Bill! I expect the queen has a dinner engagement." But Tessie hadn't, and she managed to gather breath and courage to say so. "Well, we will see," Mrs. Kingley promised Mr. Bill. "Madame Cabot is expecting us," she told Tessie as they drove away and left Mr. Bill standing somewhat disconsolate on the curb. "How romantic it is! I expect you are quite excited? It is enough to excite any girl to be told that she is a queen. I remember I saw Queen Mary once—of England, you know—before the war. She was riding in a coach with outriders, and it made Bill and me think of a circus parade. I must say she looked a frump. You are very well turned out, my dear. You look quite as a queen should look." And she frankly approved of the quiet little hat and plain frock Miss Morley had chosen.

"I got them at the Evergreen. Mr. Kingley has been so kind," Tessie told Mr. Kingley's wife gratefully.

Mrs. Kingley smiled knowingly. "I expect Mr. Kingley knows what he is about. It pleased him immensely to have all those stories about you and the Evergreen in the newspapers. I tell Mr. Kingley that's what he lives for—the Evergreen. By the way, don't be nervous if Madame Cabot is a little severe. You must remember that you are a queen and hold up your head," she advised, as they stopped before the old mansion where Madame Cabot had lived for almost half a century.

Madame Cabot was not a bit severe. It pleased her to be interested in this new royalty, and she searched her memory for any reminiscence which would help Tessie.

"But the etiquette of your islands will be so different from anything I have known, that I doubt if I can be of much assistance to you," she said slowly. "Be simple and honest, my dear. That will be your best rule. Don't claim to know more than you do. Your people will understand that you were not brought up to be a queen, and they will not expect you to know their customs and manners. Tell them frankly that you are ignorant, but that you want to learn. That is by far the best way. Don't you think so, Mrs. Kingley?"

"Oh, quite," agreed Mrs. Kingley, unobtrusively pinching herself to make sure that she really was there talking to Madame Cabot about the proper behavior of queens. It was so unbelievable that she had to give herself quite a sharp pinch to be quite sure.

And while the two older women talked of queens and their behavior, Tessie looked around the old-fashioned room and drank her tea from the thin china cups, and wished that the sandwiches were larger, for she was hungry, and of course, a queen would never take but one sandwich no matter how small it was.

"You have been so kind," she said shyly to Madame Cabot, when the audience was over. "I shan't ever forget how kind you have been. And I shall try and remember to be honest and simple," she promised from the bottom of her grateful heart. She thought she could manage to do that, and she was very grateful to Madame Cabot for so easy a rule. She had been afraid that Madame Cabot would tell her of hard things she would have to do. But any one could be simple and honest.

And Madame Cabot, the great and exclusive Madame Cabot, was touched by her humble appreciation and by the shy wistfulness in her rosy face.

"Bless the child!" she exclaimed quite as Granny might have exclaimed, and she stooped and kissed Tessie's pink cheek. "You must come and see me again. I like young people—especially pretty young girls."

Mrs. Kingley purred. She knew, if Tessie did not, what an invitation from Madame Cabot meant. "I am going to take her home with me," she told Madame Cabot almost proudly. "Just a little family dinner."

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