"And then, Minny, see how many very young girls get married to men almost old enough to be their grandfathers, here. Can't you see the reason? It's so that they can be their own mistresses, and say and do what they like. I've had them tell me so after marriage; and then they're almost always sure to begin to flirt a little, and enjoy themselves in this happy way they ought to have been left to do when single; and then their old curmudgeons of husbands get jealous, and angry, and then there are dreadful times! Oh, dear! I think it is a terrible state of society!
"Now, Minny, I'll tell you just how I feel when a gentleman calls here. There's mamma, and maybe the governess, in the parlor (now I would rather have them there than not, if I didn't know just what they were there for;) well, the governess fixes her eyes on me when I go in, and seems to say, 'Don't forget your Grecian bend;' and mamma looks down at my feet, and seems to say, 'Be sure and turn out your toes'—and the consequence is, I forget both, and feel red all over, and know that I'm acting like a very silly little fool. I sit down, and both pairs of those eyes are on me; and both pairs of those ears are wide open, and I'm as ungraceful as a giraffe; when I know, if left to act naturally, and wasn't watched all the time, I could appear very well. Then a young man here,
no matter of how high family he is, or how good or how worthy, if he happens to be ever so poor, and feels as if he'd like to take some young lady to a play or concert, or anything, he's not only got to take her, but two or three duennas to keep himself and her straight; and it's such a tax on him, that if he does it often he's always poor; and then mothers turn up their noses at him, and say he's not eligible, and all that.
"Who could have been more strict, as it is called, with any daughter than Madame Gerot with Louise? Yet see how admirably she turned out! Mon Dieu! it was frightful! Then there's a dozen other cases I could cite almost like her. I tell you, Minny, young people can't learn each other's characters at all, unless they're alone by themselves a little time. But here, a man must pay his devoirs, and make his proposals, with a third person's eyes upon him all the time; and has almost to court the mother as much as the daughter, if not more. Oh! these things make courting very unpleasant, and marriage sometimes very unhappy, when both should be the happiest seasons of one's life. Ah, me! it's very hard to have mothers always act as if their daughters hadn't judgment enough to be trusted alone a minute."
"Do daughters prove themselves trustworthy always, Miss, when they are left alone?"
"If mothers would make daughters trustworthy, Minny,
I tell you they must trust them. Society is not conducted in this manner in the North, yet I believe the young people there are better by far than they are here. But I don't care much about it now. I used to—but I shall be married some day to the man I want, and be happy in my own way.
"There, Minny, does that fold, just arranged, look well? Do I appear quite elegant and pretty now?"
"Quite, Miss."
"What a long lecture I've read you, Minny. I feel quite exhausted, I declare, and quite like going to bed again. Here's Bernard's letter—put it with the rest, and take precious, precious care of it."