“I am afraid so,” said Phoebe, softly.
“We don’t trust Him enough, Phoebe. It does seem as if the hardest thing in all the world was for man to trust God. You would not think I paid you much of a compliment if you heard me say, ‘I’ll trust Phoebe Latrobe as far as I can see her.’ Yet that is what we are always doing to God. The minute we lose sight of His footsteps, we begin to murmur and question where He is taking us. But, my dear, I must not let you tarry longer; ’tis nigh sundown.”
“Oh, dear!” and Phoebe looked up and rose hurriedly. “I trust Madam will not be angry. ’Tis much later than I thought.”
She found Madam too busy to notice what time she returned. Rhoda’s wardrobe was being packed for her visit, under the supervision of her grandmother, by the careful hands of Betty. The musk-coloured damask, which she had coveted, was the first article provided, and a cherry-coloured velvet mantle, lined with squirrel-skins, was to be worn with it. A blue satin hood completed this rather showy costume. A wadded calico wrapper, for morning wear; a hoop petticoat wider than Rhoda had ever worn before; the white dress stipulated by Molly; small lace head-dresses, instead of the old-fashioned commode; aprons of various colours, silk and satin; muslin and lace ruffles; a blue camlet riding-habit, laced with silver (ladies rode at this time dressed exactly like gentlemen, with the addition of a long skirt); and an evening dress of cinnamon-colour, brocaded with large green leaves and silver stems, with a white and gold petticoat under it—were the chief items of Rhoda’s wardrobe. A new set of body-linen was also added, made of striped muslin. Since our fair ancestresses made their night-dresses of “muslin,” it would appear that they extended the term to some stouter material than the thin and flimsy manufacture to which we restrict it. Rhoda’s boots were of white kid, goloshed with black velvet. There were also “jessamy” gloves—namely, kid gloves perfumed with jessamine; a black velvet mask; a superb painted fan; a box of patches, another of violet powder, another of rouge, and a fourth of pomatum; one of the India scarves before alluded to; a stomacher set with garnet, a pearl necklace, and a silver box full of cachou and can-away comfits, to be taken to church for amusement during long sermons. The enamelled picture on the lid Rhoda would have done well to lay to heart, as it represented Cupid fishing for human beings, with a golden guinea on his hook. Rhoda was determined to be the finest dressed girl at Delawarr Court, and Madam had allowed her to order very much what she pleased. Phoebe’s quiet mourning, new though it was, looked very mean in comparison—in her cousin’s eyes.
No definite time was fixed for Rhoda’s return home. She was to stay as long as Lady Delawarr wished to keep her.
“Phoebe, my dear!” said Madam.
“Madam?” responded Phoebe, with a courtesy.
“Come into my chamber; I would have a few words with you.”
Phoebe followed, her heart feeling as if it would jump into her mouth. Madam shut the door, and took her seat on the cushioned settle which stretched along the foot of her bed.
“Child,” she said to Phoebe, who stood modestly before her, “I think myself obliged to tell you that I expect Rhoda to settle in life on the occasion of this visit. I apprehend that she will meet with divers young gentlemen, with any of whom she might make a good match; and she can then make selection of him that will be most agreeable to her.”