“Come now, there has to be at least one you think will do,” said Lady Hackle. “My dear Lady Tremaine, please, come over here and lend us your opinion. You will be wearing the dress, after all.”

All the dresses were lovely, of course, exquisitely made in the latest fashions, but Lady Tremaine wasn’t sure if they were right for her. It was clear Mrs. Bramble didn’t think so, either.

“How about the dusty periwinkle with the deep purple accents?” Lady Hackle motioned for one of the maids to hold it up so Lady Tremaine could see. “And maybe we can have my Rebecca do your hair this evening, just this once? Oh, you’ll love her, my dear. I don’t think Mrs. Bramble would mind, would you, Mrs. Bramble?”

Lady Tremaine laughed silently to herself, knowing full well Mrs. Bramble would mind. She would mind very much.

“That is up to my lady,” Mrs. Bramble said stiffly.

But before Lady Tremaine could answer, her old friend seized the moment. “Delightful! I will send Rebecca in at six, then, to help with your hair. Oh, my sweet friend, you’re going to look lovely tonight.” She kissed Lady Tremaine on the cheek before dashing out of the room, her maids following her like a line of little ducklings.

Lady Tremaine sat on the bed as if exhausted. “Goodness, she is a whirlwind, isn’t she?” she said, trying to make light of the situation, hoping Mrs. Bramble wouldn’t be hurt or cross with her. Mrs. Bramble simply stood there looking as if she had something to say but had decided to keep it to herself. “Go on, then,” said Lady Tremaine. “I suppose you’re upset with me. You know how Lady Prudence can be. She’s tenacious when there is something she wants. Why not just give her this? And what would it hurt to wear purple? It’s still a mourning color.”

Mrs. Bramble took the black dress that she had previously laid out on the bed and hung it in the closet, saying nothing.

“Come now. Mrs. Bramble, don’t be upset. You know how much I value you. I’m only letting Rebecca do my hair to make Lady Prudence happy.” Still Mrs. Bramble said nothing. She just went about the room moving things a fraction of an inch from where they were before, pretending she was busy. “Mrs. Bramble, I must insist you speak your mind!” said Lady Tremaine, starting to become impatient.