Matilda is so intent upon all the arts of improving their dress, that she has some new fancy almost every day, and leaves no ornament untryed, from the richest jewel to the poorest flower. She is so nice and critical in her judgment, and so sensible of the smallest error, that her maid is often forced to dress and undress her daughters three or four times a day, before she can be satisfied with it.
As to the patching, she reserves that to herself; for she says, if they are not stuck on with judgment, they are rather a prejudice, than an advantage to the face.
The children see so plainly the temper of their mother, that they even affect to be more pleased with dress, than they really are, merely to gain her favour.
They saw the eldest sister once brought to her tears, and her perverseness severely reprimanded, for presuming to say, that she thought it was better to cover the neck, than to go so far naked as the modern dress requires.
She stints them in their meals, and is very scrupulous of what they eat and drink; and tells them how many fine shapes she has seen spoiled in her time, for want of such care. If a pimple rises in their faces, she is in a great fright, and they themselves are as afraid to see her with it, as if they had committed some great sin.
Whenever they begin to look sanguine and healthy, she calls in the assistance of the doctor; and if physic and issues will keep the complexion from inclining to coarse or ruddy, she thinks them well employed.
By this means they are pale, sickly, infirm creatures, vapoured through want of spirits, crying at the smallest accidents, swooning away at any thing that frightens them, and hardly able to bear the weight of their best cloaths.
The eldest daughter lived as long as she could under this discipline, and died in the twentieth year of her age. When she was opened, it appeared, that her ribs had grown into her liver, and that her other entrails were much hurt, by being crushed together with her stays, which her mother had ordered to be twitched so strait, that it often brought tears into her eyes, whilst the maid was dressing her.
Her youngest daughter is run away with a gamester, a man of great beauty, and who, in dressing and dancing, has no superior.
Matilda says, she should die with grief at this accident, but that her conscience tells her, she has contributed nothing to it herself. She appeals to their closets and their books of devotion, to testify what care she has taken to establish her children in a life of solid piety and devotion.