EXTRACTS FROM BELL CAMERON'S DIARY.
NEW YORK, December—.
After German philosophy and Hamilton's metaphysics, it is a great relief to have introduced into the family an entirely new element—a character the dissection of which is at once a novelty and a recreation. It is absolutely refreshing, and I find myself returning to my books with increased vigor after an encounter with that simple-hearted, unsophisticated, innocent-minded creature, our sister-in-law, Mrs. Wilford Cameron. Such pictures as Juno and I used to draw of the stately personage who was one day coming to us as Wilford's wife, and of whom even mother was to stand in awe. Alas! how hath our idol fallen! Tell it not in Gath, nor yet in Gotham! And still I rather like the little creature, who, the very first night, nearly choked mother to death, giving her lace streamers a most uncomfortable twitch, and actually kissing father—a thing I have not done since I can remember. But, then, with the exception of Will and Jamie, the Camerons are all a set of icicles, encased in a refrigerator at that. If we were not, we should thaw out, when Katy leans on us so affectionately and looks up at us so wistfully, as if pleading for our love. Wilford does wonders; he used to be so grave, so dignified and silent, that I never supposed he would bear having a wife meet him at the door with cooing and kisses, and climbing into his lap right before us all. Juno says it makes her sick, while mother is dreadfully shocked; and even Will sometimes seems annoyed, gently shoving her aside and telling her he is tired.
After all, it is a query in my mind whether it is not better to be like Katy than like Sybil Grandon, about whom Juno was mean enough to tell her the first day of her arrival. On the whole, I would rather be Katy, but better yet, would prefer remaining myself, Bell Cameron, the happy medium between the two extremes, of art perfected and nature in its primeval state, just as it existed among the Silverton hills. From my own standpoint, I can look on and criticise, giving my journal the benefit of my criticisms and conclusions.
Very pretty, but shockingly insipid, is Juno's verdict upon Mrs. Wilford, while mother says less, but looks a great deal more, especially when she talks about "my folks," as she did to Mrs. General Reynolds the very first time she called. Mother and Juno were so annoyed, while Will looked like a thundercloud, particularly when she spoke of Uncle Ephraim, saying so and so. He was better satisfied with Katy in Europe, where he was not known, than he is here, where he sees her with other people's eyes. One of his weaknesses is a too great reverence for the world's opinion, as held and expounded by our very fashionable mother, and as in a quiet kind of way she has arrayed herself against poor Katy, while Juno is more open in her acts and sayings. I predict that it will not be many months before he comes to the conclusion that he has made a mesalliance, a thing of which no Cameron was ever guilty.
I wonder if there is any truth in the rumor that Mrs. General Reynolds once taught a district school, and if she did, how much would that detract from the merits of her son, Lieutenant Bob. But what nonsense to be writing about him. Let me go back to Katy, who has no more idea of etiquette than Jamie in his wheel-chair. Still, there is something very attractive about her, and Mrs. General Reynolds took to her at once, petting her as she would a kitten, and laughing merrily at her naive speeches, as she called them—speeches which made Will turn black in the face, they betrayed so much of rustic life and breeding. I fancy that he has given Katy a few hints, and that she is beginning to be somewhat afraid of him, for she watches him constantly when she is talking, and she does not now slip her hand into his as she used to when guests are leaving and she stands at his side; neither is she quite so demonstrative when he comes up from the office at night, and there is a look upon her face which was not there when she came. They are taming her down, mother and Juno, and to-morrow they are actually going to commence a systematic course of training, preparatory to her _début_ into society, said _début_ to occur on the night of the ——, when Mrs. General Reynolds gives the party talked about so long. I was present when they met in solemn conclave to talk it over, mother asking Will if he had any objections to Juno's instructing his wife with regard to certain things of which she was ignorant. Will's forehead knit itself together at first, and I half hoped he would veto the whole proceedings, but after a moment he replied:
"No, providing Katy is willing. Her feelings must not be hurt."
"Certainly not," mother said. "Katy is a dear little creature, and we all love her very much, but that does not blind us to her deficiencies, and as we are anxious that she should fill that place in society which Mrs. Wilford Cameron ought to fill, it seems necessary to tone her down a little before her first appearance at a party."
To this Will assented, and then Juno went on to enumerate her deficiencies, which, as nearly as I can remember, are these: She laughs too much and too loud; is too enthusiastic over novelties, conducting as if she never saw anything before; has too much to say about Silverton and "my folks," quotes Uncle Ephraim and Sister Helen too often, and is even guilty at times of mentioning a certain Aunt Betsy, who must have floated with the Ark and snuffled the breezes of Ararat. She does not know how to enter, or cross, or leave a room properly, or receive an introduction; or, in short, do anything according to New York ideas as understood by the Camerons, etc.; she is to be taught—toned down, mother called it—dwelling upon her high spirits as something vulgar, if not absolutely wicked. How father would have sworn, for he calls her his little sunbeam, and says he never should have gained so fast if she had not come with her sunny face and lively, merry laugh to cheer his sickroom. Katy has a fast friend in him and Jamie. But mother and Juno—well, I shall be glad if they do not annihilate her altogether, and I am surprised that Will allows it. I wonder if Katy is really happy with us? She says she is, and is evidently delighted with New York life, clapping her hands when the invitation to Mrs. Reynolds' party was received, and running with it to Wilford as soon as he came home. It is her first big party, she says, she having never attended any except that little sociable in Boston, and those insipid schoolgirl affairs at the seminary. I may be conceited—Juno thinks I am—but really and truly, Bell Cameron's private opinion of herself is that at heart she is better than the rest of her family, and so I pity this little sister of ours, while at the same time I am exceedingly anxious to be present whenever Juno takes her in hand, for I like to see the fun. Were she at all bookish, I should avow myself her champion, and openly defend her; but she is not, and so I give her into the hands of the Philistines, hoping they will at least spare her hair and not worry her life out on that head. It is very becoming to her, and several young ladies have whispered their intention of trying its effect upon themselves, so that Katy may yet be a leader of the fashion.