There was again a ring at the door, and again Pyam Dodge was ushered in. His business now was to inform Miss Laura Lovel, that if she did not see him every day during her residence in Boston, she must not impute the infrequency of his visits to any disrespect on his part, but rather to his close confinement to the duties of his school—besides which, his leisure time was much occupied in studying Arabic; but he hoped to make his arrangements, so as to be able to come to town and spend at least three evenings with her every week.
At this intimation there were such evident tokens of disapproval, on the part of the Brantley family and Miss Frampton, and of embarrassment on that of Laura, that poor Pyam Dodge, obtuse as he was to the things of this world, saw that the announcement of his visits was not perfectly well received. He looked amazed at this discovery, but bowed lower than ever, hoped he was not disgusting, and again retreated.
Once more was heard at the door the faint ring that announced the schoolmaster. "Assuredly," observed a gentleman present, "this must be the original Return Strong."
This time, however, poor Pyam Dodge did not venture into the parlour, but was heard meekly to inquire of the servant, if he had not dropped his handkerchief in the hall. The handkerchief was picked up, and he finally departed, humbly hoping "that the gentleman attending the door, had not found him troublesome." The moment he was gone, the gentleman that attended the door was heard audibly to put down the dead-latch.
Next day Augusta Brantley gave a standing order to the servants, that whenever Miss Lovel's schoolmaster came, he was to be told that the whole family were out of town.
In the morning, Laura was conveyed by Augusta and Miss Frampton to the mantua-maker's, and Miss Boxpleat demurred a long time about undertaking the two dresses, and longer still about finishing them that week, in consequence of the vast quantity of work she had now on hand. Finally she consented, assuring Laura Lovel that she only did so to oblige Miss Brantley.
Laura then asked what would be her charge for making the dresses. Miss Boxpleat reddened, and vouchsafed no reply; Miss Frampton laughed out, and Augusta twitched Laura's sleeve, who wondered what faux pas she had committed, till she learned in a whisper, that it was an affront to the dressmaker to attempt to bargain with her beforehand, and our heroine, much disconcerted, passively allowed herself to be fitted for the dresses.
Laura had a very pretty bonnet of the finest and whitest split straw, modestly trimmed with white lutestring riband; but her companions told her that there was no existing without a dress-hat, and she was accordingly carried to Miss Pipingcord's. Here they found that all the handsomest articles of this description were already engaged, but they made her bespeak one of a very expensive silk, trimmed with flowers and gauze riband, and when she objected to the front, as exposing her whole face to the summer sun, she was told that of course she must have a blonde gauze veil. "We will stop at Whitaker's," said Augusta, "and see his assortment, and you can make the purchase at once." Laura knew that she could not, and steadily persisted in her refusal, saying that she must depend on her parasol for screening her face.
Several other superfluities were pressed upon our poor heroine, as they proceeded along Washington street; Augusta really thinking it indispensable that Laura should be fashionably and expensively dressed, and Miss Frampton feeling a malignant pleasure in observing how much these importunities confused and distressed her.
Laura sat down to dinner with an aching head, and no appetite, and afterwards retired to her room, and endeavoured to allay her uneasiness with a book.