“Do we want Sarah?” he asked quietly. She retired bridling.
“Inappropriate?” exclaimed Mrs. Dodd. “There is nothing here unfit for a bride's trousseau.”
“Good Heavens! Would you trick her out like a Princess?”
“We must. We are too poor to dress her like a lady.”
“Cinderella; at your service,” observed Julia complacently, and pirouetted before him in her new shawl.
Ideas rejected peremptorily at the time often rankle, and bear fruit by-and-bye. Mrs. Dodd took up the blue shawl, and said she would make Julia a peignoir of it; and the border, being narrowish, would do for the bottom. “That was a good notion, of yours, darling,” said she, bestowing a sweet smile on Edward. He grunted. Then she took out a bundle of lace: “Oh, for pity's sake, no more,” cried the “British Workman.”
“Now, dearest, you have interfered once in feminine affairs, and we submitted. But, if you say another word, I will trim her poplin with Honiton two feet deep.”
“Quarter! quarter!” cried Edward. “I'm dumb; grant me but this; have nothing made up for her out of the house: you know there is no dressmaker in Barkington can cut like you: and then that will put some limit to our inconsistency.” Mrs. Dodd agreed; but she must have a woman in to sew.
Edward grunted at this, and said: “I wish I could turn you these gowns with my lathe; what a deal of time and bother it would save. However, if you want any stuffing, come to me; I'll lend you lots of shavings; make the silk rustle. Oh, here is my governor's contribution.” And he produced L. 7, 10s.
“Now, look there,” said Julia sorrowfully, “it is money. And I thought you were going to bring me the very bonnet yourself. Then I should have valued it.”