"Then what becomes of all the new gowns?" inquired the wondering man.
"For goodness' sake, do not keep on calling them 'gowns.'"
"Dresses, then. What becomes of them?"
"Oh—they do for the country. Some few, by dint of retrimming, can be made to look new for town. You don't understand ladies' dresses, Oscar."
"I have said I do not."
"Neither ought you," added Selina, crossly. "We do not worry ourselves to interfere between you and your tailors, or pry into the shape and make of your waistcoats and buttons and things, and we do not expect to have it done by us."
"Selina, let your grievance come to an end. I do not like to hear this tone of reproach."
"Then you must retract what you said last night. It was as if you wanted me never to have a new dress again."
"Nay, Selina, I only reminded you how small our income is. You must not overlook that."
"Don't be foolish, Oscar. Do you fear I am going to ruin you? What's the cost of a few dresses? I must have one for Lady Burnham's fête."