"No, ma'am."
"You must take me into your counsels. See here—how do you like that?"
She had drawn up a chair to the side of Rotha's couch, and opening one of the packages on her lap, transferred it to Rotha's. It was the fashion then for young people to wear woollen stuffs of bright plaid patterns; and this was a piece of chocolate and black with a thread of gold colour; soft and beautiful and rich tinted. "How do you like that?" Mrs. Mowbray repeated; and Rotha answered that she thought it very beautiful.
"Don't you think that would make you a nice school dress? and here—how would this do for company days?"
As she spoke, she laid upon the chocolate plaid another package, containing a dark brown poplin, heavy and lustrous. Poor Rotha looked up bewildered to the lady's face, which was beaming and triumphant.
"Like it?" she said gleefully. "I couldn't tell your taste, you know. I had to go by my own Don't you think that would become you?"
"Me?" said Rotha.
"Yes. You see, we cannot wait for your aunt's slow motions, and you must be clothed. Do you like it, my dear?"
"I like it very much—of course—they are most beautiful; but—will aunt Serena give you the money, Mrs. Mowbray?"
"I shall not ask her," said Mrs. Mowbray laughing. "You need not say anything about it, to her or anybody else. It is our affair. Now here is a warm skirt, my dear; I want to keep you warm while you are in my house, and you are not sufficiently armed against the cold weather. I don't want to have you catching any more colds. You see, this is for my interest. Now with that you will be as warm as a toast."