What do you
want to know about it for, Daisy?"
I mused a great deal. Three and five, and ten, and fifteen
dollars a yard, on lace trimmings for me, and no tea, no cups
and saucers, no soft bed, no gardens and flowers, for many,
who were near me. I began to fill the meshes of my lace with
responsibilities too heavy for the delicate fabric to bear.
Nobody liked the looks of it better than I did. I always had a
fancy for lace, though not for feathers; its rich, delicate,
soft falls, to my notion, suited my mother's form and style
better than anything else, and suited me. My taste found no
fault. But now that so much gold was wrought into its slight
web, and so much silver lay hidden in every embroidered
flower, the thing was changed. Graceful, and becoming, and
elegant, more than any other adornment; what then? My mother
and father had a great deal of money too, to spare; enough, I
thought, for lace and for the above tea and sugar too; what
then? And what if not enough? I pondered, till my aunt Gary
broke out upon me, that I would grow a wizened old woman if I
sat musing at that rate; and sent me to bed.
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