"O no," said Rotha hastily. "I will take it with me."
"You will not want it, my dear. Summer is just here; what, you need up there is some nice calico dresses; those will be just the thing. I will get some for you this very day, and have them cut out; and then you can take them and make them up. It will give you something to do. Your winter wardrobe would be of no service to you there, and to carry it back and forward would be merely trouble and risk."
"To leave it here would be risk."
"Not at all. There will be somebody in charge of the house."
"I prefer to have the charge of my own clothes myself."
"My dear, I am not going to take it from you; only to guard the things for you while you are away. They would be out of place in the summer and at Tanfield."
"Some would; but they are all mixed up," said Rotha, trying to keep her patience, though the blood mounted into her cheeks dangerously.
"They can be separated," said Mrs. Busby coolly. "When your trunks come,
I will do that for you."
Not if I am alive! thought Rotha; but she remembered the old word—"If it be possible, as much as lieth in you, live peaceably—" and she held her tongue. However, later in the day when Mrs. Busby came in after buying the calicos, the proposition was renewed. She came to Rotha and demanded the keys of the boxes.
"Thank you, aunt Serena—I would rather do what I want done, myself."