We entered the shop, and I ordered a suit of the most fashionable clothes, choosing my colours, and being very minute in my directions to the foreman, who measured me; but as I was leaving the shop the master, judging by my appearance, which was certainly not exactly that of a gentleman, ventured to observe that it was customary with gentlemen, whom they had not the honour of knowing, to leave a deposit.  Although the very proposal was an attack upon my gentility, I made no reply; but pulling out a handful of guineas, laid down two on the counter, and walked away, that I might find another shop at which we might order the livery of Timothy; but this was only as a reconnoitre, as I did not intend to order his liveries until I could appear in my own clothes, which were promised on the afternoon of the next day.  There were, however, several other articles to be purchased, such as a trunk, portmanteau, hat, gloves, &c., all which we procured, and then went back to the inn.  On my return I ordered dinner.  Fleta was certainly clad in her best frock, but bad was the best; and the landlady, who could extract little from the child, could not imagine who we could be.  I had, however, allowed her to see more than sufficient money to warrant our expenses; and so far her scruples were, although her curiosity was not, removed.

That evening I had a long conversation with Fleta.  I told her that we were to part, that she must go to school, and that I would very often come down to see her.  At first, she was inconsolable at the idea; but I reasoned with her, and the gentle, intelligent creature acknowledged that it was right.  The next day my clothes came home, and I dressed myself.  “Without flattery, Japhet,” said Timothy, “you do look very much like a gentleman.”  Fleta smiled, and said the same.  I thought so too, but said nothing.  Putting on my hat and gloves, and accompanied by Timothy, I descended to go out and order Tim’s liveries, as well as a fit-out for Fleta.

After I was out in the street I discovered that I had left my handkerchief, and returned to fetch it.  The landlady, seeing a gentleman about to enter the inn, made a very low courtesy, and it was not until I looked hard at her that she recognised me.  Then I was satisfied; it was an involuntary tribute to my appearance, worth all the flattering assertions in the world.  We now proceeded to the other tailor’s in the main street.  I entered the shop with a flourishing, important air, and was received with many bows.  “I wish,” said I, “to have a suit of livery made for this young man, who is about to enter into my service.  I cannot take him up to town this figure.”  The livery was chosen, and as I expressed my wish to be off the next evening, it was promised to be ready by an hour appointed.