“Now, let me see,” said the Countess, peremptorily. “Measure off linen for four gowns, Agatha—two of brown and two of red. Serge for two—the dark green. One silk will be enough, and one of crape.”
“How many ells the gown does my Lady choose to allow?” asked Mistress Underdone, taking an ell-wand from the table.
“Four,” said the Countess, curtly. This was rather miserly measure, four ells and a third being the usual reckoning; but Mistress Underdone measured and cut in silence.
“Thou mayest allow a third more for the silk and crape,” said the Countess, in a fit of unusual generosity.
Mistress Underdone finished her measuring, laying each piece of material neatly folded on the last, until the table held a tall heap of them.
“Now for hoods,” pursued the Countess. “Black cloth for two, lined with cats’ fur; russet for two more. Capes for outdoor wear—two of the green serge; one of black cloth lined with cats’ fur; one of silk. Four linen wimples; two pairs of cloth boots, two of slippers; two corsets; three of those broidered kerchiefs, one better than the others; four pairs of hosen. Measure off also twenty-four ells of linen cloth.”
“Of what price, if it please my Lady?”
“Fivepence the ell. And the boots of sixpence a pair. What did that green serge cost?”
“Threepence the ell, my Lady.”
“That is monstrous. Have I no cheaper? Twopence would be good enough for her.”