Fanny's habitual neatness precluded any real necessity for an alteration in her dress—but still she thought it expedient to put on a new glossy blue gingham gown, and a clean muslin collar with a nicely plaited frill round it. This dress would have been very well, but that Fanny, in her desire to appear to great advantage, added a long sash of red and green plaid riband, and a large white satin bow deposited in the curve of her comb. Then, having turned herself round three or four times before the glass, to ascertain the effect, she descended the stairs, and in the entry met Oliver, who had just come in at the front door, and had seen from the barn-yard the arrival of the guests.
"Fanny," said Oliver, "why have you put on that great white top-knot? It makes you look like one of the cockatoos in the Philadelphia Museum. Let me take it off."
"Oh! Oliver, Oliver!" exclaimed Fanny, putting her hands to her head, "how you have spoiled my hair!"
"And this long sash streaming out at one side," pursued Oliver, "how ridiculous it looks!" And he dexterously twitched it off, saying, "There, take these fly-traps up stairs—they only disfigure you. I thought so the other day when you wore them at Mary Shortstitch's sewing frolic. You are much better without them."
"But I am not," said Fanny, angrily snatching them from his hand; "look how you've crumpled them up! Instead of finding fault with me for wishing to look respectfully to the strangers, you had best go and make yourself fit to be seen."
"I always am fit to be seen," replied Oliver, "and you know very well that I always do put myself in order as soon as I have done my work. But as for dressing up in any remarkable finery on account of four or five strange men, it is not in my line to do so. If, indeed, there were some smart girls along, it would be a different thing: but it is not my way to show too much respect to any man."
"I believe you, indeed," remarked Fanny.
"Well, well," said Oliver, "your hair is pretty enough of itself—and you fix it so nicely that it wants no top-knot to set it off; and this party-coloured sash only spoils the look of your waist. I hate to see you make a fool of yourself."
Fanny tossed her head in affected disdain, but she smiled as she ran up stairs to put away the offending ribands. She found her mother leaning down over the banisters, and looking very happy at Oliver's desire that Fanny should not make a fool of herself.
Fanny, having prepared the milk-punch in the best possible manner, filled half a dozen tumblers with it, grating a profusion of nutmeg over each, and then arranged them on a small waiter. When she entered the parlour with it, Mr. Culpepper, who called himself a confirmed invalid, was engaged in giving her father a particular description of all his ailments; and the four nephews were listening with an air of intense interest, as if it was the first they had heard of them.