The girl coloured, and bent again over the trunk. I rested my elbows on my knees, pressed my hands against my cheeks, and stared at her. "I don't wish to offend you, Morris," I said; "I want us two to be friends." "Thank you, miss." "But I do wish to say," I continued, "that I consider it awfully frivolous to have to put on a special dress for morning, and another dress for afternoon, and yet another dress, just when tea comes in, and another dress for dinner. Privately, I think it quite wicked, and I am sure you must agree with me." "It is what's done in society, miss," answered the girl. "They all do like that, those who move in the best society." She began to unpack rapidly, and I watched her. I reflected within myself that I had left Hill View with no clothes except the ones I was wearing, and what were contained in my tiny trunks. Now I had several big trunks, and they were crammed, pressed full, with the newest and most wonderful dresses; and besides the dresses there were mantles, and coats, and opera cloaks, and all sorts of the most exquisite, the most perfect underclothing in the world. Morris was a quick lady's maid; she evidently understood her duties thoroughly well. She had soon unpacked my trunks, and then she suggested that I should wear a dress of the palest, most heavenly blue, in order to greet her ladyship and Major Grayson. I said, "Is it necessary?" and she replied, "Certainly it is," and after that I submitted to her manipulations. She helped me into my dress, arranged my hair in a simple and very becoming manner, and then she looked at me critically. "Am I all right now?" I asked. "Yes, miss, I think you will do beautifully."