He produced them and tried one on. It seemed to be quite as he had said. Matilda could see no difference.
"That will do," said he, "if you like them. They are exactly as well made as that first pair; and of the same leather."
"Then why are they only five dollars," Matilda asked, "while the others are seven?"
"Fashion," said the man. "Nothing else. You see, those are wide at the toe; that was the style worn last winter; these first, you see, are very narrow at the toe. There is no demand for these now; so I can let you have them low. If you like these, I will let you have them for four and a half. Seven dollar boots."
Matilda felt a pang of uncertainty. That would save her two and a half dollars of her seven, and she would have pennies for street girls and change for other objects. But Judy would look at those square toes, and think that Matilda was from the country and did not know, as she said, what was what. The thought of Judy's eyes and smile was not to be borne.
"I will take the others," she said hastily to the shopman—"the first you tried on."
"I thought so," said the man. "Those are what you want."
Matilda paid, and Norton ordered them sent home, and the two left the shop.
"If that had been a good shoemaker," said Norton, "he would have fitted you in half the time. We have been half an hour there."
"O that is my fault, Norton," said Matilda; "because I could not decide which fashion to have."