Effie was as ready for callers at ten to seven as she would be at seven. Wearing Hattie's green dress again, a collar of her own making tacked to the hemline (which would later be posted out or offered to Sadie), she was sitting quietly by the window of her room, making the most of the evening light by working on her ongoing project, an endless strip of trim that could be used for many purposes and sold by the yard.
When Mr. MacKallister's card was delivered, she set the pillow safely aside, pinned her bobbins into place, smoothed her skirt, checked her hair in the tiny looking glass above her dresser, and followed the maid down to the parlour, drawing a deep breath before knocking on the partly-closed door. "Mr. MacKallister?"