CACHMERE VERSUS STARCH. 107

nothing better to do, 1 walk down to the
gate after the barrow and see the pots (six
in all) stowed away comfortably in the cart.
By this time it only wants half an hour
to luncheon, so I stroll in and up to my
room again to see what Nurse has put out
for me to wear.

On my bed is spread out a white piqué,
handsomely trimmed with embroidery, and
looking delightfully cool and inviting. About
this, however, I have strong doubts, and I
instantly make up my mind, that, should it
be as I suspect, I will not wear it. No; I
would sooner go in the dark blue cotton
frock I have on, torn as it is, and, it must be
confessed, dirty and tumbled too.

I march up to the bed and take up my
dress. Yes; it is as I thought. It will
actually stand alone on the floor in its hope-
less stiffness!

I toss it back on to the bed and rush up
straight to the nursery.

“Nurse!” I cry as I enter breathless, “I
cannot wear that dreadful dress; I might just