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Reade, Charles, 1814-1884

"A Simpleton"


(Staines stared.) Why not introduce her to me next Wednesday? It is my
night. I would give a dinner expressly for her; but I don't like to do
that while my husband is in Naples."
When Staines carried the invitation to his wife, she was delighted, and
kissed him with childish frankness.
But the very next moment she became thoughtful, uneasy, depressed. "Oh,
dear; I've nothing to wear."
"Oh, nonsense, Rosa. Your wedding outfit."
"The idea! I can't go as a bride. It's not a masquerade."
"But you have other dresses."
"All gone by, more or less; or not fit for such parties as SHE gives. A
hundred carriages!"
"Bring them down, and let me see them."
"Oh yes." And the lady, who had nothing to wear, paraded a very fair
show of dresses.
Staines saw something to admire in all of them. Mrs. Staines found more
to object to in each.
At last he fell upon a silver-gray silk, of superlative quality.
"That! It is as old as the hills," shrieked Rosa.
"It looks just out of the shop. Come, tell the truth; how often have you
worn it?"
"I wore it before I was married."
"Ay, but how often?"
"Twice. Three times, I believe."
"I thought so. It is good as new."
"But I have had it so long by me.


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