she knows I never dress myself," said Kate fretfully.

"Don't you? Why, Grace and I always dress ourselves, except for the
evening. Let me help you. Are not those your boots?"

Kate rushed to the bottom of the attic stairs, and shouted
"Josephine" at the top of her shrill voice; then, receiving no
answer, she returned, condescended to put on the boots that Adelaide
held up to her, and noisily pulled out some drawers; but not seeing
exactly what she wanted, she again betook herself to screams of her
maid's name, at the third of which out burst Mrs. Bartley in a
regular state of indignation: "Lady Caergwent! Will your Ladyship
hold your tongue! There's Lady Jane startled up, and it's a mercy if
her nerves recover it the whole day--making such a noise as that!"

"But Josephine won't come, and I'm going out, Bartley," said Kate
piteously. "Where is Josephine?"

"Gone out, my Lady, so it is no use making a piece of work," said
Bartley crossly, retreating to Lady Jane.

Kate was ready to cry; but behold, that handy little Adelaide had
meantime picked out a nice black silk cape, with hat and feather,
gloves and handkerchief, which, if not what Kate had intended, were
nice enough for anything, and would have--some months ago--seemed to
the orphan at the parsonage like robes of state. Kind Adelaide held
them up so triumphantly, that Kate could not pout at their being only
everyday things; and as she began to put them on, out came Mrs.
Bartley again, by Lady Jane's orders, pounced upon Lady Caergwent,
and made her repent of all wishes for assistance by beginning upon