“And the alterations?” he asked.
“I would have a row of silver harebells and green ferns, touched with gold, as an outer border,” explained the Countess: “and instead of those ornaments in the inner part, I would have golden scrolls, worked with the words ‘Dieu et mon droit’ in scarlet.”
The pedlar shook his head. “The golden scrolls with the words can be done, without difficulty. But I must in all humility represent to my Lady that the flowers and leaves she desires cannot.”
“Why?” asked the Countess in a surprised tone.
“Not in this work,” answered the pedlar. “In this style of embroidery”—and he took another scarf from his pack—“it could be wrought: but not in the other.”
“But that is not to be compared with the other!”
“My Lady has well said,” returned the pedlar with a smile.
“But I do not understand where the difficulty lies?” said the Countess, evidently disappointed.
“Let my Lady pardon her servant. We have in our company—nay, there is in all England—one broideress only, who can work in this style. And I dare not make such an engagement on her behalf.”
“Still I cannot understand for what reason?”