Meanwhile they had brought Melanie's travelling-trunk: there was only one, and no bonnet-boxes—almost incredible!
"Very well,—so begin at once to put your own things in order. Here are the wardrobes for your robes and linen. Keep them all neat. The young lady, whose stockings the chamber-maid has to look for, some in one room, some in another, will never make a good housekeeper."
Melanie drew her only trunk beside her and opened it: she took out her upper-dresses.
There were only four, one of calico, one of batiste, then one ordinary, and one for special occasions.
"They have become a little crumpled in packing. Please have them bring me an iron; I must iron them before I hang them up."
"Do you wish to iron them yourself?"
"Naturally. There are not many of them: those I must make respectable—the servant can heat the iron. Oh, they must last a long time."
"Why haven't you brought more with you?"
Melanie's face for a moment flushed a full rose—then she answered this indiscreet inquiry calmly:
"Simply, my dear Czipra, because the rest were seized by our creditors, who claimed them as a debt."