as over, Madam
desired Phoebe to attend her in her own chamber, and to bring her
wardrobe with her. Rhoda followed, unasked, and sat down on the form at
the foot of the bed to await her cousin. Phoebe came in with her arms
full of dresses and cloaks. She was haunted by a secret apprehension
which she would not on any account have put into words--that she might
no longer be allowed to wear mourning for her dead father. But Phoebe's
fears were superfluous. Madam thought far too much of the proprieties
of life to commit such an indecorum. However little she had liked or
respected the Rev. Charles Latrobe, she would never have thought of
requiring his child to lay aside her mourning until the conventional two
years had elapsed from the period of his decease.

Phoebe's common attire was very quickly discarded, as past further wear;
and she was desired to wear her best clothes every day, until new ones
were ready for her. This decided, Rhoda was ordered to ring for Betty,
Madam's own maid, and Betty was in her turn required to fetch those
stuffs which she had been bidden to lay aside till needed. Betty
accordingly brought a piece of black camlet, another of black bombazine,
and a third of black satin, with various trimmings. The two girls alike
watched in silence, while Betty measured lengths and cut off pieces of
camlet and bombazine, from which it appeared that Phoebe was to have two
new dresses, and a mantua and hood of the camlet: but when Rhoda heard
Betty desired to cut off satin for another mantua, her hitherto
concealed chagrin broke forth.

"Why, Madam!--she'll be as fine as me!"

"My dear, she will be as I choose," answered Madam, in a tone which
would have silenced any one but Rhoda. "And now, satin for a hood,
Betty--"

"'Tis a shame!" said Rhoda, under her breath, which was as much as she
dared venture; but Madam took no notice.

"You will line the hoods and mantuas warm, Betty," pursued Madam, in her
most amiable tone. "Guard the satin with fur, and the camlet with that
strong gimp. And a muff she must have, Betty."

"A muff!" came in a vexed whisper from Rhoda.

"And when the time comes, one of the broidered India scarves that were
had of Staveley, for summer wear; but that anon. Then--"

"But, Madam!" put in Rhoda, in a troubled voice, "you have never given
me one of those scarves yet! I asked you for one a year ago." To judge
from her tone, Rhoda was very near tears.

"My dear!" rep