"Russia leather."
"There, mamma!" Antoinette exclaimed. "Isn't that Mrs. Mowbray all over?
When a morocco one, or a canvas one, would have done just as well."
"As I said," returned Mrs. Busby. "Mrs. Mowbray does not know what to do with money. When are you going travelling, Rotha?"
"I do not know. Some time in my life, I suppose."
"What a ridiculous thing to give her!" pursued Antoinette.
"Yes, I think so," her mother echoed. "Do not let yourself be deluded, Rotha, by presents of travelling bags or anything else. Your future life is not likely to be spent in pleasuring. What I can do for you in the way of giving you an education, will be all I can do; then you will have to make a living and a home for, yourself; and the easiest way you can do it will be by teaching. I shall tell Mrs. Mowbray to educate you for some post in which perhaps she can put you by and by; she or somebody else. So pack up your expectations; you will not need to do much of other sorts of packing."
"You forget there is another person to be consulted, aunt Serena."
"What other person?" said Mrs. Busby raising her head and fixing her observant eyes upon Rotha.
"Mr. Southwode."
"Mr. Southwode!" repeated the lady coldly. "I am ignorant what a stranger like him has to say about our family affairs."