"My, my, Ermie, there's a quiet little girl," the mother squealed. "How is it that you have managed to refrain from squirming around all these days? It's so much easier to get you into your corset now. You're not as fidgety as you used to be----in fact, you aren't fidgety at all! Has an angel bitten you?" enquired the mother, smoothening out her dress-frills.

"Oh, it will be out someday, I know it," Ermie chirped. "And I will not let such a meagre object as a corset get into the way of my wishes."

"Well, young lady, you'd best get used to it," smiled the mother. "Those stays will not be withdrawn till man and his logic continue to exist upon the vast earth." The merry laugh that followed was soon drowned when a beautiful ceramic statue was bashed to the ground after being pulled off along with its stand by one of the heavy gold ribbons in Ermie's ball dress.

"ERMENGARDE! What in God's name----Harriette! Get yourself here with a broom and clean this----oh, my favourite piece, gone. I knew you were up to some rebellion or the other. Ermengarde, stay where you are. Better still, go upstairs. What have you done?"

Realizing the danger at hand, Ermengarde picked up her skirts and darted away to her chamber as fast as it was possible for her. She felt her cheeks getting warmer every minute, and she incessantly bit her lip in anticipation of her mother's wrath that had remained hidden from her for eight long years.



The End

7 comments about this story Feed