ady.

"What colour, Daisy?"

"I want something quiet," I said.

"Something dark," said the doctor, seating himself. "And fine quality.
Not green, Daisy, if I might advise. It is too cold."

"Cold!" said I.

"For this season. It is a very nice colour in summer, Daisy," he said,
smiling.

And he looked on in a kind of amused way, while the clerk of the
merinoes and I confronted each other. There was displayed now before
me a piece of claret-coloured stuff, dark and bright; a lovely tint
and a very beautiful piece of goods. I knew enough of the matter to
know that. Fine and thick and lustrous, it just suited my fancy; I
knew it was just what my mother would buy; I saw Dr. Sandford's eye
watch me in its amusement with a glance of expectation. But the stuff
was two dollars and a quarter a yard. Yes, it suited me exactly; but
what was to become of others if I were covered so luxuriously? And how
could I save money if I spent it? It was hard to speak, too, before
that shopman, who held the merino in his hand, expecting me to say I
would take it; but I had no way to escape that trouble. I turned from
the rich folds of claret stuff to the doctor at my side.

"Dr. Sandford," I said, "I want to get something that will not cost so
much."

"Does it not please you?" he asked.

"Yes; I like it: but I want some stuff that will not cost so much."

"This is not far above my sister's estimate, Daisy."

"No--" I said.

"And the difference is a trifle--if you like the piece."

"I like it," I said; "but it is very much above _my_ estimate."

"You had one of your own!" said the doctor. "Do you like something
else here better?--or what is your estimate, Daisy?"

"I do not want a poor merino," I said. "I would rather get some other
stuff--if I can. I do not want to give more than a dollar."

"The young lady may find what will suit her at the plaid counter,"
said the shopman, letting fall the rich drapery he had been holding
up. "Just round that corner, sir, to the left."

Dr. Sandford led the way, and I followed. There certainly I found
plenty of warm stuffs, in various patterns and colours, and with
prices as various. But nothing to match the grave elegance of those
claret folds. It was coming down a step, to leave that counter for
this. I knew it perfectly well; while I sought out the simplest and
prettiest dark small plaid I could find.

"Do you like these things better?" the doctor asked me privately.

"No, sir," I