The Stolen Lake by Joan Aiken

pincushion, the size of a saddlebag, lay between them on the chest, together with a massive, glittering pair of scissors, and a two-yard mahogany rule.
    The sempstresses stood up and curtsied respectfully to Captain Hughes. They were dressed alike, in the black stuff gowns that seemed to be standard garb for the women of Tenby, with white fichus and white frilled caps, but in other respects they were as different from each other as possible. Dido took an instant dislike to both. One was small, aged, skinny, and wrinkled, the other big and buxom with a thick shock of coarse curly black hair escaping from under her cap and hanging halfway down her back. Each had a velvet pincushion fastened to her fichu, and a tape measure attached to her belt. Both looked very attentively at Dido.
    "You are the needlewomen recommended to me by Mrs. Brandywinde?" inquired the captain.
    "Yes, Capting. I am Mrs. Morgan," said the little old one, smiling—when she did so, she revealed the fact that she had no teeth at all, which made her smile rather like that of a lizard. "And this here's my daughter, Mrs. Vavasour."
    The younger woman also smiled.
    "So this is the young lady who needs fitting out?"
    Her pitying, disdainful glance swept over Dido's saltstained breeches, frayed collar, darned socks, and scuffed brogans, one of them with a loose buckle.
    "Ah! Pretty as a pink palm blossom she be!" cooed Mrs. Morgan, in a voice that did not match the expression in her sharp little black eyes.
    Dido was resigned to her own looks. She knew that she had a pale, pointed face, freckled like a musk flower; pale, observant gray eyes; and short, stringy brown hair. They're a-trying to gammon me, she decided, but I'm not a-going to let them. She stared coldly back at the two dressmakers while Captain Hughes gave them their instructions.
    "The young lady will be among the British party attending the court of Queen Ginevra to pay their respects to Her Majesty. I wish the child to be fitted out with two gowns, suitable for a young person of her—ahem—age and station—to wear at court—besides slippers, sashes, kerchiefs—whatever is needful. Can you do that?"
    "Certingly, certingly, Capting." Mrs. Morgan curtsied again.
    Mrs. Vavasour said, "Both gowns oughter be white. Mull for daytime wear—a round gownd over a silk pettingcoat, ingbroidered with cattails in turkeywork—"
    "—and," struck in her mother, "French knots round the neck, and the border round the sleeves ingbossed—"
    "—a pink sash—"
    "—then, for evening wear, a white silk taffety gownd, pinstriped with cream, and a lace pettingcoat—"
    "—a sash of the same, ingbroidered with silver sequing fronds!"
    "She'll look like a hangel from heaving, that she will!"
    "Very well, very well!" said Captain Hughes testily. "That sounds suitable enough—I know little of such matters. So the cut be plain and neat—nothing fussy or overtrimmed. Can you have both gowns ready by tonight? We leave on the dawn riverboat tomorrow morning."
    Another glance passed between the two.
    "Why, surely, surely, Capting," cooed Mrs. Morgan. "By midnight the work shall be done. The young lady will be fine as a bird of paradise—willn't she, Nynevie?"
    "Gracious to goodness, yes indeed!" smiled the younger woman. Dido could not decide which smile she disliked more—the bare gums or the flashing silver teeth.
    "How much will the two gowns cost?"
    "One hundred bezants, Capting—and cheap at the price."
    "Good God! Furbelows are costly in New Cumbria, it seems."
    He glanced at Dido, as if wondering whether the outlay was worth it; she glanced back with equal resentment. "Well, well—you shall be paid tonight."
    "Beg parding, Capting," said Mrs. Morgan respectfully but firmly. "We has to be paid in advance. Mull and silk and taffety and lacings—them's costly stuffs. Let alone the floss and ribbing and trimmings. Pay us
now,
if you please, Capting."
    "Oh, very well! I will send Mr. Windward up with the money