It was swift, as some intuition told her it would be. There was no more disputing. Mrs. Busby let the subject of the trunk drop, and was as benign as usual; which was never benign except exteriorly. She was as good as her word in purchasing calicos; brought home what seemed to Rotha an unnecessary stock of them; and that afternoon and the next day kept a dress-maker cutting and basting, and Rotha at work to help. These cut and basted dresses, as they were finished, Mrs. Busby stowed with her own hands in a little old leather trunk. Then, when the last one went in, she told Rotha to bring whatever she wished to have go with her. "To put in that?" Rotha asked. "Certainly. It will hold all you want." Rotha struggled with herself with the feeling of desperate indignation which came over her; struggled, grew red and grew pale, but finally did go without another word; and brought down, pile by pile, her neat under wardrobe. Mrs. Busby packed and packed. Her trunk was leather, and strong, but its capacities were bounded by that very strength. "All these!" she exclaimed in a sort of despair. "There is no use whatever in having so much linen under wear." Rotha was silent. "It is _much_ better to have fewer things, and let them be washed as often as necessary. A family would want a caravan at this rate." "This is Mrs. Mowbray's way," said Rotha. "Mrs. Mowbray's way is not a way to be copied, unless you are a millionaire. She is the most extravagant woman I ever met, without exception." "But aunt Serena, it costs no more in the end, whether you have a dozen things for two years, and comfort, or half a dozen a year, and discomfort." "You don't know that you will live two years to want them." "You don't know that you will live one, for that matter," said Antoinette, who always spoke her mind, careless whom the words touched. "At that rate, mamma, we ought to do like savages,--have one dress and wear it out before getting another; but it strikes me that would be rather disagreeable." "You will not find anybody at Tanfield to do all this washing for you," Mrs. Busby went on. "I shall have no more washing done than if I had fewer things," Rotha said. "Then there is no sort of use in lugging all these loads of linen up there just to bring them back again. The trunk will not hold them. Here, Rotha--take back these,--and these, and these--" Rotha received them silently; silently carried them up stairs and came down for more. She was in a kind of despair. Her Bible and most precious belongings she had put carefully in her travelling bag, rejoicing in its beauty and security. "Mamma," said Antoinette now, "does Rotha know when she is going?" "I do not know." "Well, that's funny. I should think you would tell her. Why it's almost time for her to put on her bonnet." Rotha's eyes went from one to the other. She was startled.