Now, Esmeralda was not altogether an idiot, as she chose from her despised wardrobe—which was to go to Barker, all excepting the habit, which, because of its associations, she intended to retain—what she considered her prettiest dress, and was proceeding to put it on, when Barker entered.
Esmeralda greeted her with a smile, but with some surprise, and when Barker took the dress out of her hand, and began to assist her to get into it, Esmeralda said:
“Don’t you trouble. I will put it on all right.”
“Oh! but, miss, I’ve got to help you,” said Barker.
“Help me?” said Esmeralda. “Why? I don’t want any help.”
Barker looked at her confusedly.
“Ladies always want to be helped by their maid, miss,” she said. “I don’t suppose you could hook it properly.”
“Oh, yes, I can,” said Esmeralda. “I always put on my own dresses at Three Star.”
“And do your hair, too, miss?” asked Barker, with wild astonishment.
“Of course,” said Esmeralda.