There is nothing I want less than for Mistress Mungon to help me into that silken malformation, but she herds me upstairs while Hugh makes himself comfortable in the common room, and so I press my lips together and do as I’m bid. She helps me wriggle into the ugly thing—it is so very orange!—and ties the bow, and fluffs the petticoats, which I expect will cause me to trip and fall headfirst down all three flights of stairs, but at least a broken neck will mean I don’t have to go.
