Then there are those truly abominable dressing-tables, the deal frame covered with muslin and lace and glazed calico, like the frock of a ballet-dancer, or else with some serge material that resembles nothing so much as a church altar; and that should never be used except in cases where the others really cannot be managed on the score of expense; but, as there are many nice sets of furniture to be bought for about 12l. 12s., I think, somehow, a dressing-table can be managed by Angelina that shall not serve as a dust-trap, a hiding hole for all sorts of débris, or an attraction for fire; for many a death has been caused by these flimsy petticoated things catching alight and flaring up in one moment.
I had one once which was rather a good possession, as it was in reality a deep square box. I believe it had once been an old wooden crib, retired from active service and covered with a lid; and although it was very useful, and held all my spare blankets, I never could bear the look of it, and it was finally shorn of its legs and turned into an ottoman with a chintz cover. But it is desperately heavy, and I never see it without feeling cross at its unalterable ugliness.
I never use the ordinary white toilet-cover; this is another of my pet detestations. I invariably have neat tapestry covers made to fit the tables &c., and edged with a ball fringe to match. I use, moreover, self-coloured felt and velveteen, also edged with furniture lace or fringe, and this I use also to cover the box pincushions that are in every room, and are invaluable for holding odds and ends, the gloves one has in wear, shoestrings, and so on. For these, a large-sized cigar box is an excellent foundation. This should be lined with wadding and glazed lining, the top carefully wadded too, and all the outside covered with lining; then cover it tightly with either plush, velveteen, or tapestry, and put fringe round in such a way that the opening is hidden. Very tidy folks tie these boxes together with ribbons. I do not; life is too short, and I find the fringe hides any gaps, and looks very nice too. The top part does for pins or one’s brooches, though I prefer to keep my pins in a china Japanese dish, shaped like a fish, because I can’t bear the pin-stuck look of a cushion; and I put my brooches away in their boxes, because they are apt to be knocked off and lost or bent, unless you are possessed of a maid or housemaid who is as careful as she ought to be, and yet somehow never is! The brushes and combs live in a middle drawer, the paper in which should be changed once a week, when the room is properly cleaned. They should never be placed on the toilet-cover, and, if there be no centre drawer, two cedar-wood trays covered with tapestry covers over pieces of washing stuff should be provided, to insure that they are not left on the toilet-covers, and that cleanliness is duly respected. In front of the toilet-table, however the room is covered, there should be an extra rug. Of course, if the carpet be new the first beauty of the carpet may be used if you like, but this I do not advise: first, because you may like to change your furniture—I love changing mine—and in this case you could not, because the carpet would be marked; and, secondly, because it is a pity to wear it out more in one place than another, which you could not avoid doing if you do not put a rug down in the place you use most. In the case of matting or staining a rug would be imperative, and I strongly recommend one for a carpet for the reasons mentioned above. Before we leave the dressing-table for the washing-stand, I should like to say a few words about the way to light it. Careful survey should be made of the room before the gas-brackets are put in, and, if possible, one should be so arranged as to bring the light over the centre of the glass.
In a big room a bracket each side is advisable. Long brass brackets should be used, which should be able to be moved either to the side or to the middle of the glass, bringing the light well over the top whenever it is possible, thus doing away at once with any necessity for candles and the attendant dangers. If candles are used they should be invariably protected with Price’s candle guards; but once more I say, have one of Messrs. A. and A. Drew’s perfect little 1s. 6d. lamps in every room. They are quite safe, and can be carried from room to room without the very smallest danger. They never smell, are lighted and put out in a moment, and are invaluable to any mother who pays domiciliary visits to her children, and puts down her light to tuck up or kiss the little sleepers, for she can place this lamp even in a draught and at the same time need not consider if a curtain is blowing close by, for if it did it could do no harm. They are useful even to the reader in bed, as they give sufficient light for that, although they do not come up to the excellent candle lamps recently invented, but which cost a guinea, as contrasted with our modest 1s. 6d., and have no protection for the flame, which, however, is far back in the lamp, and not easily reached. Another item must also be mentioned before we leave the toilet-table subject. Every scrap of hair should be collected by Angelina herself before she leaves the toilet-table, and be placed somewhere out of sight, to be burned by herself in the nearest fire. Avoid those terrible things called toilet-tidies, which make me shudder whenever I see them hanging up; but do not leave this item near a servant’s hands: they cannot resist combing out the brush either into the washing basin or the toilet-pail. The drains become clogged—no one knows why, until that miserable creature the plumber has to be called in, when, after spoiling all that comes within his reach, he discovers the cause, and sends in a tremendous bill, all of which need never have happened had Angelina looked after this item herself. If the nursery fire be handy it can be disposed of every morning; if not, a little box could be kept in one corner of the dressing-table drawer, and the contents burned when the room is cleaned, which should be done with the very greatest regularity once a week, on a stated day, which should always be rigorously adhered to, and which, if properly done, minimises in a remarkable manner the discomfort and disagreeables of that abomination to the male mind, and to some female minds too—the spring clean. Whatever Angelina is, I do hope and trust she will duly appreciate her table-drawers, and not look upon them as a store-place for rubbish. She will, of course, have a store of gloves, handkerchiefs, and ribbons at first in her trousseau; and I most strongly advise her to keep in the toilet drawers the things she has in use, not her whole store. She should never allow herself more than three pairs of gloves in wear, one of which should be for evening wear, nor more than a dozen handkerchiefs in use; and she should never put away her gloves unmended or lacking buttons, nor allow a fortnight to pass without putting every drawer she possesses tidy, and seeing her handkerchiefs are correct in number. Tidiness and tidy habits are great helps to economy of time and money, and are therefore highly to be recommended for Angelina’s consideration.
There is nothing so expensive as a muddle; nothing so sure to unhinge the servants and make them cross, captious, and anxious to move on elsewhere. Keep straight and work is easy, because it is expected and looked out for; allow arrears to accumulate, and nothing is done.
And this also applies to the drawers in Angelina’s own wardrobe. Unmended gloves, linen, or stockings should never for one moment be allowed, neither should one set of linen be taken into wear until the previous one is worn entirely out. This should be kept religiously, old linen being invaluable for burns (if it be linen, not cotton) or wounds, and to give away to the deserving poor who may be ill. Even in one’s own illnesses old nightdresses are invaluable; as medicine, poultices, and constant and daily washing soon ruins one’s nice new things. I am no advocate for hoarding, but I do know the value of old worn-out things, if only to have something to fall back upon if a friend comes in, to beg for Kitty Jones’s ninth baby; or for old Mrs. Harris, in bed and suffering agonies from rheumatic fever, when rags and old flannel petticoats come in like a godsend for her use. If one’s servants have good wages they do not need these things, and I do not think, in any case, they should be given old clothes: they come to look upon them as a right, and often enough one is prevented giving a far more deserving object some cast-off garments because one fancies that so-and-so will be offended; therefore I strongly advise Angelina to keep one especial ottoman or drawer to go to for her charities. I am sure she will find it a great help to her if she does so.
One of the palm-leafed baskets for soiled linen should be in every room; they are a little more expensive than the ordinary soiled linen baskets, but they stand three times the wear, and always look nice. Albeit this is an article I always put as much as possible in very humble retirement behind my cheval-glass, there is no choice in my mind between the palm-leaf and the wicker-work for wear, and I strongly recommend both the dark brown and the light-coloured ones; they are about 5s. 11d. each.
If Angelina can possibly afford it she should buy a cheval-glass; of course the long glass in the wardrobe shows one’s dresses pretty well, but it cannot be moved about to suit the light like the cheval-glass can, neither does it ever somehow act quite in its place. I dress very hurriedly, for I have so little time generally for this operation. I am always doing something up to the last moment before I go out either for a drive or in the evening, so that I could not do without mine, and I have often been saved quite fearful contretemps by this faithful friend, which truthfully points out strings and skirts out of place, and has an unpleasant habit of suggesting that one’s hair must be done again, by reflecting the back of one’s head in a crude, and startling way, in the ordinary glass. Then it is of great use to visitors too, who may not have a long glass at all in the spare-room wardrobe, and are doubly thankful to find a cheval-glass there, lent of course out of Angelina’s own room for the time being.
Another thing that I should like to speak of is the necessity of always having a clean brush and comb in the toilet drawer. A friend comes in unexpectedly to luncheon or dinner, and we are struck with dismay to find that it is the day before our own particular brushes are to be washed, and we have none fit to give her. If we always keep a ‘company brush and comb’ we need never be put to confusion as we otherwise should, for often, in dusty weather particularly, and especially if we drive much, our brushes look black almost after once using, and are not suitable to give a friend, without being really dirty.
This said washing of brushes is a vexed question. I have a friend who is so particular about hers that she never uses them more than once, and then has them washed rapidly in hot soapsuds. By holding the backs in her hand so that they do not touch the water, and thus only immersing the bristles, she gets them clean without spoiling them; they are dried in the fender, and she always has six brushes in use. Now, I think if we have three in use, and have them washed in routine, one a day, so as always to have one clean one ready for a friend, we shall do very well. And I think 5s. or 6s. ample to give for a brush; I have had some excellent ones from Whiteley’s at 4s. 11d. and 4s. 6d. If we buy extravagantly dear brushes, we grudge their wear and tear and their numerous washings; but inexpensive ones can be kept cleaner, because we can more easily afford to buy new ones if we do not give too much at first. The old silver brushes at 5l., and beautiful ivory-backed ones at almost any price we like to give, are delightful to possess; but unless we can constantly renew the bristles, they soon get useless, and as we can’t do that we must be content with ordinary ones; which same remark applies to combs. I like a black vulcanite at 1s. 9d. or 2s. better than any, for a comb is difficult to keep really nice, and one does not mind throwing a soiled or broken one away if one can easily and cheaply replace it.