"I do!" And Britta nodded her curly head sagaciously. "There was a girl from Hammerfest who went to Christiania to seek service--she was handy at her needle, and a fine spinner, and a great lady took her right away from Norway to London. And the lady bought her spinning-wheel for a curiosity she said,--and put it in the corner of a large parlor, and used to show it to her friends, and they would all laugh and say, 'How pretty!' And Jansena,--that was the girl--never span again--she wore linen that she got from the shops,--and it was always falling into holes, and Jansena was always mending, mending, and it was no good!"
Thelma laughed. "Then it is better to spin, after all, Britta--is it not?"
Britta looked dubious. "I do not know," she answered; "but I am sure great ladies do not spin. Because, as I said to you, Fröken, this Jansena's mistress was a great lady, and she never did anything,--no! nothing at all,--but she put on wonderful dresses, and sat in her room, or was driven about in a carriage. And that is what you will do also, Fröken!"
"Oh no, Britta," said Thelma decisively. "I could not be so idle. Is it not fortunate I have so much linen ready? I have quite enough for marriage."
The little maid looked wistful. "Yes, dear Fröken," she murmured hesitatingly; "but I was thinking if it is right for you to wear what you have spun. Because, you see, Jansena's mistress had wonderful things all trimmed with lace,--and they would all come back from the washing torn and hanging in threads, and Jansena had to mend those as well as her own clothes. You see, they do not last at all--and they cost a large sum of money; but it is proper for great ladies to wear them."
"I am not sure of that, Britta," said Thelma, still musingly. "But still, it may be--my bridal things may not please Philip. If you know anything about it, you must tell me what is right."
Britta was in a little perplexity. She had gathered some idea from her friend Jansena concerning life in London,--she had even a misty notion of what was meant by a "trousseau" with all its dainty, expensive, and often useless fripperies; but she did not know how to explain her-self to her young mistress, whose simple, almost severe tastes would, she instinctively felt, recoil from anything like ostentation in dress, so she was discreetly silent.