“Lady, these flowers, leaves, heads, and such representations of created things, are the work of Christian hands. That broidery which my Lady desires is not so.”
“But why cannot Christians work this broidery?”
“Ha! They do not. My Lady’s servant cannot speak further.”
“Then what is she who alone can do this work? What eyes and fingers she must have!”
“She is my daughter,” answered the pedlar, rather proudly.
“But I am sure the woman who can broider like this, is clever enough to make a row of harebells and ferns!”
“Clever enough,—oh yes! But—she could not do it.”
“‘Clever enough,’ but ‘could not do it’—old man, I cannot understand thee.”
“Lady, she would account it sin to imitate created things.”
The Countess looked up with undisguised amazement.