" 'Dark blue,' or 'dark brown,' or a 'nice gray,' eh? Well, she's pretty easy to suit. A dark blue I've showed you already what's the matter with that?"
"It isn't dark enough," said Ellen.
"Well," said he, discontentedly, pulling down another piece, "how'll that do? That's dark enough."
It was a fine and beautiful piece, very different from those he had showed her first. Even Ellen could see that, and fumbling for her little pattern of merino, she compared it with the piece. They agreed perfectly as to fineness.
"What is the price of this?" she asked, with trembling hope that she was going to be rewarded by success for all the trouble of her enterprise.
"Two dollars a yard."
Her hopes and countenance fell together. "That's too high," she said, with a sigh.
"Then take this other blue; come it's a great deal prettier than that dark one, and not so dear; and I know your mother will like it better."
Ellen's cheeks were tingling and her heart throbbing, but she couldn't bear to give up.
"Would you be so good as to show me some gray?"