Sir Thomas contemplated the dress again, with a rather puzzled face.
“I see not a patch thereon, Orige. Prithee, be all thy gowns rags?—and be Clare and Blanche in rags likewise?”
“Of course—not fit to show,” said the lady.
“It seemeth me, Orige, thou shouldst have had money aforetime. Yet I cannot wholly conceive it,—we went not to church in rags this last Sunday, without somewhat ail mine eyes. If we be going thus the next, prithee lay out in time to avoid the same.”
“Gramercy, Sir Thomas!—how do you talk!”
“Rachel,” said her brother, as she entered, “how many new gowns dost thou need to show my Lady Jack?”
“I lack no new gowns, I thank thee, Tom. I set a new dowlas lining in my camlet but this last week. I would be glad of an hood, ’tis true, for mine is well worn; but that is all I need, and a mark (13 shillings and 4 pence) shall serve me.”
“Then thy charges be less than Orige, for she ensureth me that all her gowns be but rags, and so be Clare’s, and the like by Blanche.”
“Lack-a-daisy!” cried Rachel. “Call me an Anabaptist, if she hath not in her coffers two velvet gowns, and a satin, and a kersey, and three camlets—to say nought of velvet kirtles and other habiliments!”
“My dear Rachel!—not one made this year!”