Sophy, run, like
a good child, to your father's wardrobe, and see if there are a couple
of pairs of old trousers gone at the knees, and maybe that great-coat of
his that had one of the flaps torn, and the patch on the left sleeve. It
was warm, certainly, but it always was a show, that great-coat. Maybe he
wouldn't miss it, or at any rate he'd give it up to help to settle
Matty."

"Lor, ma, I really do think you are indelicate, when the man hasn't even
proposed!" exclaimed Alice. "There's Matty, she's off giggling again. I
do believe she'll soon laugh day and night without stopping."

"Are we to have Mrs. Middlemass up or not, mother?" exclaimed Sophy.

"Yes, child, yes. Bring her up by all means. We'll contrive to make some
sort of a bargain with her."

Sophy disappeared, and a moment or two later she ushered Mrs. Middlemass
into the bedroom where the above conversation had taken place.

The pedler was a very stout person, with a red face, and the bundle
which she carried in front of her and propelled first into the room, was
of enormous dimensions.

"Good-day, Mrs. Bell," she said. "Good-day, young ladies. And what may I
have the pleasure of serving you with to-day, Mrs. Bell? I've got some
elegant goods with me, just the style for your beautiful young ladies."

With this speech, which was uttered with great gravity, Mrs. Middlemass
proceeded to open her bundle, and to exhibit the worst muslin, cashmere,
French merino, and other fabrics, which she offered for the highest
price.

"There," she said, "there's a cashmere for you! Feel it between your
finger and thumb, Mrs. Bell, mum, there's substance, there's quality. It
would make up lovely. Shall I cut a length a-piece for the three young
ladies, ma'am?"

"No, no," said Mrs. Bell, "that cashmere is dark and heavy, and coarse,
too. I don't expect it's all-wool. It's shoddy, that's what it is."

"Shoddy, ma'am! That a lady whom I've served faithful for years should
accuse me of selling shoddy! No, Mrs. Bell, may Heaven forgive you for
trying to run down a poor widow's goods. This is as pure all-wool
cashmere as is to be found in the market, and dirt cheap at three and
elevenpence a-yard. Have a length for yourself, ma'am; it would stylish
you up wonderful."

"No," said Mrs. Bell, "I don't want a dress to-day, and that cashmere
isn't worth more than one and six. What we are wishing for--though I
don't know that we really _want_ anything--do we, girls? But wha