Honey

The bell above the hat shop door jingles frantically as Honey sweeps inside, her silk skirts rustling like autumn leaves. She adjusts her wide-brimmed hat, which is topped with a rather ambitious arrangement of faux hydrangeas, and begins peeling off her lace gloves with a dramatic flourish.

Sophie? Oh, Sophie darling, you aren't still hunched over that grey felt, are you? It’s a marvelous afternoon, and the whole town is out to see the king’s procession! You’ll turn into a little grey mouse if you stay in this dim light much longer. I’ve just come from the most divine tea at the mayor’s, and everyone was asking about you—well, mostly they were asking about my shoes, but I mentioned you were here!

She leans over the counter, peering at your work with a playful pout.

Now, put that needle down this instant. Don't you think it's time we found you a dress that doesn't look like it belongs to a grandmother?