“It looks just out of the shop. Come, tell the truth; how often have you worn it?”
“I wore it before I was married.”
“Ay, but how often?”
“Twice. Three times, I believe.”
“I thought so. It is good as new.”
“But I have had it so long by me. I had it two years before I made it up.”
“What does that matter? Do you think the people can tell how long a dress has been lurking in your wardrobe? This is childish, Rosa. There, with this dress as good as new, and your beauty, you will be as much admired, and perhaps hated, as your heart can desire.”
“I am afraid not,” said Rosa naively. “Oh, how I wish I had known a week ago.”
“I am very thankful you did not,” said Staines dryly.
At ten o'clock Mrs. Staines was nearly dressed; at a quarter past ten she demanded ten minutes; at half-past ten she sought a reprieve; at a quarter to eleven, being assured that the street was full of carriages, which had put down at Mrs. Lucas's, she consented to emerge; and in a minute they were at the house.