"He was very near to anger—as near as is possible for Arthur Howell; but out goes my young woman in a fine rage about what was none of her business."
"And what did you say?"
"What could I say except to excuse her, because the young man was our friend, and at last that I was very sorry not to do as they would have had me to do, but would hear no more. He was ill-pleased, I do assure thee."
"Were you very sorry, Mary Swanwick?"
"I was not, although I could not approve the young man nor my child's impertinence."
"Well, my dear, I should have said worse things. I may have my way in the matter of dress, I suppose?"
"Yes," said the widow, resigned. "An Episcopalian in Friends' dress seems to me to lack propriety; but as to thy desire to buy her fine garments, there are trunks in my garret full of the world's things I gave up long ago."
"Were you sorry?"
"A little, Aunt Gainor. Wilt thou see them?"
"Oh, yes, Margaret," she called, "come in."