"You can come along and see."
"Aunt Serena," said Rotha, trying to speak un-concernedly, "what has become of Mr. Digby—Mr. Southwode, I mean."
"I do not know, my dear," the lady answered smoothly.
"Why haven't I seen him?"
"My dear, you have not seen anybody. Some day I hope you will be able; but I begin to despair of the dress-makers."
"If my tailor served me so, I should give him up," said Mr. Busby's quick, husky utterance.
"Yes, papa, but you wouldn't, if there was only one tailor you liked."
"Isn't there more than one mantua-maker for all this big city?"
"My dear, Miss Hubbell suits me, and is uncommonly reasonable, for the quality of her work; and she has so much custom, we cannot get her without speaking long beforehand."
"Why don't you speak, then?"