"Will you say whether you really think it wrong?"
"I don't know." Not her considering "I don't know," but the dry, provoking end-of-the-matter answer of half sullen days gone by.
"If you really thought it positively wrong," proceeded Caroline, "not another word would I say: but I don't see how you can without condemning all gaeties, and that I know you do not."
"I only think it a—a waste of time—a great deal of nonsense," said
Marian, faltering for an answer; "and really I have spent so much money;
I do not like to throw away any more."
"O, you do not know how we have settled that," said Caroline, beginning to be hopeful now that she had something tangible to attack. "The dresses for the morning will be nothing,—only a white skirt and green polka, which will do to wear for ever after, and a little ruff, very pretty, and no expense at all; and a little alteration will make our court dresses perfectly suitable for Queen Elizabeth's ladies. You need not be at all afraid of being ruined."
Marian saw that, though there would be many a little expense to make a mickle one, yet it would still only cost her Mrs. Jameson, instead of the gifts to the poor people; but as this was what chiefly justified her in her own eyes, she would not admit the conviction, and answered, "Those things that are altered and adapted really are as costly in the end as if they were new altogether. Besides, I could not, I really could not shoot before such an assembly."
"I should so like to see you get the arrow."
"O Caroline, that would be worse than anything!"
"Well, then, don't get it; shoot as badly as you please: only do be kind and make one of us, or you will spoil the whole concern."
"How can that be? What difference can my dressing up or shooting make to any one?"