"That is what I would wish to be, my dear, for it is only so that we can do our duty.... Not that I would ever pledge myself never to marry again, my dear Elizabeth. I don't at all approve people making promises that it may be the will of Heaven they should break afterwards; and those people are not the most likely to keep a resolution, who vow and swear about it. But I hope you will never think me stingy, my dear, nor let anybody else think me so, for not spending above a third of my income, or perhaps not quite so much; for, now you know my motives, you must feel that it would be very ungenerous, particularly in your family, to blame me for it." "It would indeed, Mrs. Barnaby, and it is what I am sure that I, for one, should never think of doing.... But this is the milliner's.... Shall we go in?" "Oh yes!... A very pretty shop, indeed; quite in good style. What a sweet turban!... If it was not for the reasons that I tell you, I should certainly be tempted, Elizabeth. Pray, ma'am, what is the price of this scarlet turban?" "Four guineas and a half, ma'am, with the bird, and two guineas without it." "It is a perfect gem! Pray, ma'am, do you ever make up ladies' own materials?" "No, ma'am, never," replied the decisive _artiste_. "Do you never fasten in feathers?... I should not mind paying for it, as I see your style is quite first-rate." "For our customers, ma'am, and whenever the feathers or the coiffure have been furnished in the first instance by ourselves." "You are a customer, Elizabeth, are you not?" "Mamma is," replied the young lady. "You know Mrs. Peters of Rodney Place, Mrs. Duval?" "Oh yes!... I beg your pardon, Miss Peters. Is this lady a friend of yours?" "Mrs. Peters is my sister-in-law, Mrs. Duval, and I hope that will induce you to treat me as if I had already been a customer. I should like to have some feathers, that I mean to wear at the ball on Tuesday, fastened into my toque, like these in this blue one here. Will you do this for me?" "Yes, ma'am, certainly, if you will favour us with your name on our books." "That's very obliging, and I will send my own maid with it as soon as I get home." "Is there anything else I can have the pleasure of shewing you, ladies?" "I want some long white gloves, if you please, and something light and elegant in the way of a scarf." The _modiste_ was instantly on the alert, and the counter became as a sea of many-coloured waves. "Coloured scarves are sometimes worn in slight mourning, I believe, are they not?" "Oh yes! ma'am, always." "What do you say to this one, Elizabeth?" said the widow, selecting one of a brilliant geranium tint. "For yourself, Mrs. Barnaby?" "Yes, my dear.... My dress will be black satin, you know." "I should think white would look better," said Elizabeth, recollecting her mother's aversion to fine colours, and recollecting also the recent weeds of her widowed aunt. "Well, ... perhaps it might. Let me see some white, if you please."