"London's a large place," said the coachman.
"I don't need you to tell me that. Drive to Regent Street."
The drive was spent in trying to accommodate Uncle Matthew's wraps to the temperature of the inside of the brougham, and in an attempt to calculate how much it cost Eneas to keep a horse, carriage, and coachman. This was a complicated calculation, because it involved deducting from the cost per week not merely the amount saved in artificial manures, but also the amount saved by growing bigger vegetables than would otherwise have been grown.
"But whatever way you look at it," said Uncle Matthew finally, "it's a dead loss!"
When they reached Regent Street, Uncle Matthew told Jasmine to stop the carriage at the first shop where women's clothes were sold.
"Women's clothes?" repeated Jasmine.
"Yes, women's clothes. I'm told you want a gown for a ball to-morrow. Well, I'm going to buy you one."
Jasmine could scarcely believe that it was Uncle Matthew who was talking, and her expression of amazement roused the old gentleman to ask her what she was staring at.
"Think I've never bought gowns for women before?" he asked. "I used to come shopping every day with my poor wife, fifty years ago."
The brougham had stopped at a famous and fashionable dressmaker's, and Jasmine wonderingly followed the old gentleman into the shop.