"Not in my eye," answered Miss Frampton. "Wait but two years, till my sweet Augusta is old enough and tall enough to come out, and you will have no occasion to invite beauties, for the purpose of drawing company to your house--for, of course, I cannot but understand the motive; and pray, how can the father of this girl enable her to make a proper appearance? When she has got through the two new dresses that we had so much difficulty in persuading her to venture upon, is she to return to her black marcelline?--You certainly do not intend to wrong your own child by going to the expense of dressing out this parson's daughter yourself. And, after all, these green young girls do not draw company half so well as ladies a few years older--decided women of ton, who are familiar with the whole routine of society, and have the veritable _air distingué_. One of that description would do more for your soirées, next winter, than twenty of these village beauties." Next day our heroine's new bonnet came home, accompanied by a bill of twelve dollars. She had supposed that the price would not exceed seven or eight. She had not the money, and her embarrassment was increased by Miss Frampton's examining the bill, and reminding her that there was a receipt to it. Laura's confusion was so palpable, that Mrs. Brantley felt some compassion for her, and said to the milliner's girl, "The young lady will call at Miss Pipingcord's, and pay for her hat." And the girl departed, first asking to have the bill returned to her, as it was receipted. When our heroine and her companions were out next morning, they passed by the milliner's, and Laura instinctively turned away her head. "You can now call at Miss Pipingcord's and pay her bill," said Miss Frampton. "It is here that she lives--don't you see her name on the door?" "I have not the money about me," said Laura, in a faltering voice--"I have left my purse at home." This was her first attempt at a subterfuge, and conscience-struck, she could not say another word during the walk. On the last day of the week, her dresses were sent home, with a bill of eleven dollars for making the two, not including what are called the trimmings, all of which were charged at about four times their real cost. Laura was more confounded than ever. Neither Mrs. Brantley nor Augusta happened to be present, but Miss Frampton was, and understood it all. "Can't you tell the girl you will call and settle Miss Boxpleat's bill?" said she. "Don't look so confused"--adding in a somewhat lower voice, "she will suspect you have no money to pay with--really, your behaviour is in very bad taste." Laura's lip quivered, and her cheek grew pale. Miss Frampton could scarcely help laughing, to see her so new to the world, and at last deigned to relieve her by telling Miss Boxpleat's girl that Miss Lovel would call and settle the bill.