'What with the children and expenses one way and another,' she went on, 'I determined last month to try and economise. I looked all round, but I couldn't really find anywhere to begin.
Sugar in one's tea and all that sort of thing is so very feeble, and, besides, I never take sugar, so I found it hard to think of anything. Well, at last I thought of dressing-gowns and sponges. They are things that are never seen unless you go away to spend the night—which I never do—and it happened at the time that mine were both perfect rags—my sponge and dressing-gown, I mean. My wretched ayah had let the dogs get hold of the sponge, and it was difficult to know afterwards which was the sponge and which were the pieces, and as for the dressing-gown, well, I was only waiting to go down to Calcutta to get a new one. So I took the opportunity to economise. One can get on quite well with a hand-glove and a bath-towel.'
But Berengaria sighed even as she said it, evidently for the lost delights of a sponge and a dressing-gown. I felt quite a glow of satisfaction at having worked her up to a pitch to appreciate Aunt Agatha's present to the full.
'How very fortunate,' I said, 'that real sweet rose-pink dressing-gown I've been describing is yours.'
'Mine?' cried Berengaria, delight and incredulity in her voice.
'Aunt Agatha thought you would like it,' I said, smiling. 'She is so great on dressing-gowns herself
