Then she carefully locked her bedroom door, and took the key with her when she left the house.
Her ambition did not take any very high flights, although she did believe herself to be a countess.

She knew nothing of the splendid shops of the West End.

She only knew the Borrough and St.Paul's churchyard, both of which she thought, contained the riches and splendors of the whole world.
She went to the nearest cab-stand, took a cab, and drove to St.Paul's churchyard, (in ancient times a cemetery, but now a network of narrow, crowded streets, filled with cheap, showy shops.) She spent the best part of the day in that attractive locality.
When she returned, late in the afternoon, the canvas bag was empty and the cab was full, for Rose Cameron, the country girl, ignorant of the world, but having a saving faith in the dishonesty of cities, refused to trust the dealers to send the goods home, but insisted on fetching them herself.
She displayed her purchases--mostly gaudy trash--to the wondering eyes of Mrs.Rogers, and then, tired out with her long night's journey and her whole day's shopping, she ate a heavy supper and went to bed.

Such excesses never seemed to over-task her fine digestive organs or disturb her sleep.

After an unbroken night's rest she awoke the next morning with a clear head and a keen appetite, and rang for the housekeeper to bring her a cup of tea to her bedside.
While waiting for her tea she wondered if her "guid mon" would arrive during the next twenty-four hours.
And that revived in her mind the memory of her supposed rival.