She had brought out her newest gowns and Lucy was submissively putting them on one after the other.
Eleanor was in pursuit first of all of some general conceptions.

What was the girl's true style ?--what were the possibilities?
'When I have got my lines and main ideas in my head,' she said pensively, 'then we will call in the maids.

Of course you _might_ have the things made in Rome.

But as we have the models--and these two maids have nothing to do--why not give ourselves the pleasure of looking after it ?' Pleasure! Lucy Foster opened her eyes.
Still, here was this absurd, this most extravagant cheque from Uncle Ben, and these peremptory commands to get herself everything--everything--that other girls had.

Why, it was demanded of her, had she been economical and scrupulous before starting?
Folly and disobedience! He had been told of her silly hesitations, her detestable frugalities--he had ferretted it all out.