The truly lively and excellent Miss Mitford has, in her story of "The Black Velvet Bag," dilated very agreeably on the pleasures of the feminine occupation of Shopping! She has made its charms obvious to the meanest capacity; nay, more candid still, she has afforded us, now and then, a glimpse of its many pleasant delusions. She is, throughout, the busy, intelligent actor in this everyday drama of domestic life. She has admitted us fully and fairly to her confidence, from the preliminary "Inventory of Wants," with its accompaniment of a full purse, to the finale of a full budget and an empty exchequer!
Let not the above admission (honestly made), however, induce any one to suppose that the subject must necessarily be exhausted. On the contrary, she has not even alluded, in the remotest degree, to that which I hold to be its chief delight—its crowning glory; namely, the harvest of enjoyment which its many phases present to the inactive, though not uninterested, spectator of its whereabout.
"I do wish that you would lay aside your work, and accompany me in a round of shopping," was the opening address of an early morning visitor. "I really have so many commissions to execute that it would be an act of charity to afford me the benefit of your good taste and excellent judgment!"
Who could resist a request so flatteringly preferred? The work was laid aside, and the request complied with on the instant; and within a quarter of an hour we were set down at the first stage of our pleasant expedition.
The magazin that was honored by our selection on the present occasion held a middle rank between the aristocratic pretensions of Howell and James's, and the honest bourgeois reputation of Tottenham House! My friend was of that class of elegant economists who go to the fountain-head for the sample, and to the principal stream for the supply. The initiated will be at no loss to decide that Swan and Edgar's was our mart.
As I was not a principal on the present occasion, the pas was, of course, assumed by my companion. On the moment of our entrance, offers of services were obsequiously proffered, and, to my great surprise, were as courteously evaded. My friend was a tactician, and, fully alive to her own infirmity, was not so rash as to venture on an unproved agent. Former experience had revealed to her on whose head the organ of patience was most largely developed, and as its possessor happened to be engaged, my friend, like a wise general, was content to forego a present convenience, in order to secure a future advantage. She, therefore, intimated that she preferred being waited on by Miss A., and added, she was quite content to await her leisure on the present occasion.
The martyr-like expression of Miss A.'s countenance gave place to one of great complacency, the result, perhaps, of the 'compliment implied by her selection, since it must have been gratifying to feel that merit is sometimes appreciated; and no one can deny that, among the virtues, Patience has always ranked as a cardinal!
A few minutes sufficed to surround us with silks and satins, ribbons and velvets; a few more were consumed in the discussion of "the unusual prevalence" of "flat colors" and "neutral tints," together with conjectures as to the duration of this sombre mode, which soon gave place to the important business before us. My friend became serious and oracular; murmured of "harmony and contrast;" and, in the words of our divine Milton—
"With dispatchful looks in haste
She turns on (most becoming) thoughts intent,