“Yes,” said the girl, “I want a little wool if you are going out.”
“We must begin to think of the clothes—the important clothes,” said Teresa with a laugh, but watching her all the time. “I mean you to have yours from Paris.”
“There is no good in wasting money,” Sylvia returned practically. “Why do people always think they must do that when they marry? It’s silly.”
“Well, one isn’t married every day of one’s life,” pleaded the marchesa. Suddenly she said, with a quick change of voice, “Dear, you do want to marry your Walter, don’t you?”
“Of course!” The girl stared blankly in her face. “When people are engaged, of course they marry. How funny you are, Teresa!”
“Well, then,” cried the other gaily, “none of your horrid little economical scruples for me! What’s the good of having more money than I know what to do with, if one mayn’t spend it? I shall order the frocks, and they shall be lovely.”
“I think you had better consult Walter.”
“Then I won’t. He can dress you after you are married; I shall do it before. Tell him so, if you like.”
“Oh, we don’t talk of dress.”
“What do you talk of?” asked Teresa with sudden curiosity.