A Romantic Young Lady

by Robert Grant

One evening as we were sitting after our return from an especially pleasant dinner-party, Aunt Helen surveyed me contentedly through her eye-glass, and said:—

"I have never seen you look or appear better in your life than you did to-night, my dear. Your dress set to perfection, and you were very agreeable."

I dropped a little curtsy in return.

"Yes," she continued, "I will not disguise that there was a time about a year ago when I felt very anxious in regard to you. Eccentricity, as I have often told you before, is all very well when one has nothing to lose and everything to gain by it. I can understand how a young person with no antecedents or opportunities for getting on in society might secure a temporary advantage by making herself an object of remark. But in your case it has always seemed to me wholly inexplicable. Every one knows who you are and all about you, already. However, all is well that ends well, and it is an unspeakable relief to me that you have come to your senses at last."

"Don't crow, Aunt Helen, until you are out of the woods. I may be merely a meteor that will vanish some day as quickly as I appeared, and leave you all in the dark."

"You are your own mistress, of course. If I take any credit to myself for what you are to-day, Virginia, it is because I have never interfered with anything you chose to do. I have expressed my opinion of course when I thought you were making mistakes, but I have stopped short at that. Others in the same position might have behaved differently; but it is not my way. I said to myself, 'If her own good sense does not teach her, nothing will.' So, too, now that you have justified my confidence in you, I have no temptation to act otherwise. You will do what you prefer, of course. But naturally I have my own ideas as to what is desirable for you."

"You have been very good to me always," I replied, smiling at this bland assumption of tact; "and I always like to hear what you have to say."

"Well, dear, it seems to me that with a very little trouble you can have the most attractive house in town. One hears it so often said that we have nothing to correspond to what the French call salons,—those delightful entertainments one reads about, where every one is either clever or distinguished. Of course every one is not really clever, but made to appear so,—the whole secret lying in the power of some charming and talented woman to select and combine harmoniously: even the most stupid people (if it is necessary to invite them) are made to say amusing things. You know of course what I mean. It has been tried here, but rarely with success. It requires both brains and personal attractions, and our women who possess one are too apt to imagine they have the other also. But it has occurred to me, several times lately, that you are just the person to attempt it. I may say without flattery, dear, that you are considered very handsome, and people have an impression that you are clever,—which is better even than really being so, and I do not mean to say that you are not, for I think you are. You have had an excellent education, and have a taste for books, and all that sort of thing. The fact that you have been known to be peculiar would rather add to your chances of success than otherwise, for it would throw a little air of mystery about you. Then you have a beautiful house and the means to entertain elegantly; and last, but not least, you have an assured position. The trouble is so apt to be, that those who attempt anything of the sort are not known. All the talent in the world will not be able to constitute a salon unless one possesses, and is intimate with others who possess, that indescribable something which every one understands, but which it is difficult to put into words. Yes, Virginia, you have a great opportunity before you, if only you choose to take advantage of it."

Curiously enough, this view of Aunt Helen was quite similar to certain ideas which I myself had been revolving since my return to conventional habits. I foresaw that my interest in balls and parties merely as such was sure to wane before long, and that if I wished to obtain continued diversion from society it must be by force of some such programme as that which she had suggested. In short, I felt that the tone and standard of social life might be raised if one set about it in the right way. As Aunt Helen said, there were really no reasons why my house should not become a centre of elegance and refinement, which, however far distant from the conception of a salon, might give pleasure of a legitimate sort to a large number of people.

So much did this scheme grow upon me, that by another winter I was busy in putting it into execution. Thanks to the past energy of Aunt Helen, my house was already very nearly up to the mark as a model of luxury and taste. I gave a series of entertainments which I sought to make as distinguished and agreeable as possible. Upon a foundation of the most fastidious and well-bred of my acquaintances I cast a sprinkling of clever men who commonly found parties a bore, original but outlandish women, representatives of every sort of talent, local and visiting celebrities, and every desirable stranger in town. They all would be glad to come for once, I knew. The vital point was to induce them to come again. To effect this, I left no stone unturned and begrudged no expenditure. I found it somewhat up-hill work at first, but none the less were my efforts crowned with success in the end. My house grew to be the favorite resort alike of the fashionable and the cultivated; and to keep it so created an interest in my life which relieved the sombreness of my other occupations.