You have money enough; you know you have, Aunt Susan." "I have money enough, thanks to my dear husband's saving all his life, but it is not going to be squandered on dress by me, now he is dead and gone." "I would have bought the dress for you myself, then," said the niece.
"No, thank you," returned the aunt with asperity.

"I have never been in the habit of being beholden to you for my clothes and I am not going to begin now.

I didn't want that dress anyway.

I always hated purple." "It wasn't purple, it was mauve." "I call purple, purple, I don't call it anything else!" Then the aunt retreated precipitately before the sound of the opening door and entrenched herself in her bedroom, where she stood listening.
Margaret Edes treated the young author with the respect which she really deserved, for talent she possessed in such a marked degree as to make her phenomenal, and the phenomenal is always entitled to consideration of some sort.
"Miss Wallingford ?" murmured Margaret, and she gave an impression of obeisance; this charming elegantly attired lady before the Western girl.

Martha Wallingford coloured high with delight and admiration.
"Yes, I am Miss Wallingford," she replied and asked her caller to be seated.