“No! but it may have faded.”
“Well! then I’ve a green silk. I feel more as if it was the embarrassment of riches.”
“I wish I knew what you ought to wear,” said Mrs. Hale, nervously.
Margaret’s manner changed instantly. “Shall I go and put them on one after another, mamma, and then you could see which you liked best?”
“But—yes! perhaps that will be best.”
So off Margaret went. She was very much inclined to play some pranks when she was dressed up at such an unusual hour; to make her rich white silk balloon out into a cheese, to retreat backwards from her mother as if she were the queen; but when she found that these freaks of hers were regarded as interruptions to the serious business, and as such annoyed her mother, she became grave and sedate. What had possessed the world (her world) to fidget so about her dress, she could not understand; but that very afternoon, on naming her engagement to Bessy Higgins (apropos of the servant that Mrs. Thornton had promised to enquire about), Bessy quite roused up at the intelligence.
“Dear! and are you going to dine at Thornton’s at Marlborough Mills?”
“Yes, Bessy. Why are you so surprised?”
“Oh, I dunno. But they visit wi’ a’ th’ first folk in Milton.”
“And you don’t think we’re quite the first folk in Milton, eh, Bessy?”