"It is necessary to think of the trousseau."
"Heavens! It is early for that," exclaimed the girl in dismay, while her heart leaped into her mouth.
"It is not so, Cecilia; you do not know the time the embroideresses take in such matters. Nieves took a month to embroider two petticoats for Doña Rosario's daughter—and Martina is slower than she."
"Nieves embroiders very well."
"There is no embroideress in the town to hold a candle to Martina. She has hands of gold."
"I prefer the embroideries of Nieves."
"Then, if you wish it, let her embroider your clothes, but I—" said Doña Paula, looking at her daughter in an offended, haughty sort of way.
"I don't say so," returned the girl in alarm; "I only say I like the work of Nieves better than Martina's."
The trousseau soon became the subject of conversation. It was discussed from every point of view, and with the gravity and the care it deserved.
To whom should they entrust the hemming of the linen sheets? To whom the common ones? Who should make the underlinen? Where should the mantles be bought, etc.? All these questions were discussed, weighed, and considered. Doña Paula gave her opinion; Cecilia affected to contradict, but in reality what did she care?