They was all flam-new for Tom, an' I
judged I'd have further use for 'em, but never did. Theer they be, even to
a furry-cloth, as none doan't ever use nowadays, though my mother did, and
thot well on't. So I did tu. 'Tis just a bit o' crimson red tailor's cloth
to cover the soft plaace 'pon a lil baaby's head 'fore the bones of en graw
together. An' I reckon 'tis better to have it then not. I seem you'd do
wise to take the whole kit; an' you'm that well-to-do that 'twouldn' be
worth thinkin' 'bout. 'Twould be cheaper'n a shop; an' theer's everything a
royal duke's cheel could want; an' a butivul robe wi' lacework cut 'pon it,
an' lil bits o' ribbon to tie in the armholes Sundays. They'm vitty
clothes."
Joan's eyes softened to a misty dreaminess before this aspect of the time
to come. She had thought so little about the baby and all matters
pertaining thereto, that every day now brought with it mental novelty
and a fresh view of that experience stored for her in the future.
"Iss, I do mind they things when Tom was in 'em. What be the value in
money?"
Mrs. Tregenza answered shyly and almost respectfully.
"Well, 'tis so difficult to say, not bein' a reg'lar seller o' things. They
cost wi'out the robe, as was a gift from Mrs. Blight, more'n five pound."
"Take ten pound, then. I'll tell uncle."
Thomasin's red tongue-tip crept along her lips and her bright eyes blinked,
but conscience was too strong.
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