“If it please my Lady, there is only that coarse grey serge at three halfpence the ell, which was bought for the cook-maids.”
“Humph! I suppose that would scarcely do,” said the Countess, in a tone which sounded as if she wished it would. “Well, then—those ornaments. She must have a silver fibula, I suppose; and a copper-gilt one for common. What made thee put out all those other things? That is enough for her. If she wants a silver chain, her husband must give it her; I shall not. As to rings and necklaces, they are all nonsense—not fit for such as she.”
“Would my Lady think proper to allow a dovecote with silver pins?”
The dovecote was a head-dress, a kind of round caul of gold or silver network, secured by gold or silver pins fastened in the hair.
“Not I. Let her husband give her such fooleries.”
“And may I request to know what my Lady allows for making the garments?”
“Three halfpence each.”
“Might I be pardoned if I remind my Lady that the usual price is twopence each?”
“For me, perhaps; not for her.”
Mistress Underdone went on measuring the linen in silence.