and really the variety was so great that the office of selection seemed far from an easy one. The younger ladies were in high spirits, and proceeded to canvass the peculiar merit of each article with great energy. There certainly is something very attractive in unsunned fabrics, even though they appertain not to ourselves. I felt quite interested in the debate, and when the discussion became warm, on the comparative merits of French gray or French lavender, I could hardly forbear from offering a casting vote on the subject.
Meantime the person most interested in the decision sat by silent and abstracted, her eyes fixed on the face of the boy—her thoughts probably in the tomb of her husband. At length it became necessary to make a selection. The lady was appealed to. She seemed as though awaking from a dream, and, glancing at the shining heaps before her, said, "Too gay, much too gay." Her sister, in a low voice, appeared to expostulate with her, for the words "two whole years" were distinctly audible. The animated look of the little girl became subdued as she gazed on her mother's face. She pushed aside the brighter colors and drew some black silk over them, and was silent. Not so, however, her aunt! She had evidently resolved that the children at least should mourn no longer; with a tone of authority she desired the lavender silk to be cut off, and with a look of mingled pity and contempt heard her sister order another "Paramatta." Too indignant to interfere further, she contented herself with adding "and crape, I suppose." The lady did not reply—the shopman, probably inferring her wishes from her silence, produced the anathematized material, a liberal quantity was cut off, and the party slowly retired.
A merry-eyed, dandyfied-looking young sailor, with a complexion much bronzed beneath a fervid sun, was the next member of the dramatis personæ. He desired to see some silk pocket-handkerchiefs; India silk—no other would do. A variety was placed before him, together with some of British manufacture, greatly superior to the veritable Bandanas! It might be so—they were more beautiful, certainly; but India handkerchiefs he must have—ay, and with the true peculiar spicy smell; that odor only to be acquired by a four months' voyage in company with cinnamon and sandal-wood. After a little delay, even this desideratum was achieved. A dozen were cut off, each folded in a separate paper, and each and every one directed by his own hand! During this ceremony, a very contagious smile irradiated his features, which, gathering strength with every name he wrote, finally exploded into an uncontrollable fit of laughter. Grave people turned round to stare and frown; and the youth, rather abashed by the sound of his own laugh, murmured something in an apologetic tone, and, hastily paying for his purchase, quitted the shop. There was something odd in all this. At length the truth flashed on my mind. The youth had just returned from India, and was gifted with a goodly train of unreasonable cousins, all of whom "had expected some trifle from the Land of the East." Poor fellow!—as though a hundred a year were a greater fortune in Hindoostan than in England, or self-denial a whit easier of practice on the banks of the Ganges than the banks of the Thames. At length, his means admitting of a partial satisfaction of his expectants, he had taken the only means in his power to amend his short-comings. Poor fellow!—may his pious fraud meet with a rich harvest of gratitude; and, above all, may he have wit enough to keep his own counsel!
For a few minutes the little stage that had afforded me so much interest was vacant. It was, however, shortly filled by a group well calculated to afford
"A bright atonement for the brief delay."
It consisted of a lady of some five-and-forty years, with face and figure well preserved; and which, though lacking the delicacy of youth, was redeemed by an expression scarcely less attractive. She took her seat with a quiet dignity of manner—the result, I fancied, rather of a well-balanced mind than of conventional attainment. She was accompanied by a pretty sentimental girl of about eighteen, a brisk little maiden of twelve, buoyant with delight at having escaped the school-room at an unwonted hour, and a staid-looking Young Person, probably a dependent cousin.
The party seated themselves with some regard to personal comfort, as though their business was likely to be of some duration. Their commands were, the indispensables of a lady's outfit. During this period, the young lady looked on with a kind of lofty indifference, and, when appealed to, gravely declined interference, leaving the matter to be arranged by the lady mother and the useful cousin. These affairs satisfactorily adjusted, the externals were next in demand. The smile of the child betrayed the secret—they were purchasing the trousseau of a bride. In vain was the sentimentalist appealed to in the articles of handkerchiefs and gloves—she was cold, polite, but indifferent. This I thought strange, till I remembered she was a fiancée, almost as good as a married lady already, and had therefore some dignity to sustain. At length the brilliant externals were spread before her. What young lady of eighteen could maintain the appearance of indifference? It was not in nature—not in female nature. The statue descended from its pedestal; entered quietly and gracefully into the details before it; made selections with the taste of an artist and knowledge of a woman of fashion (two qualities rarely combined); bought various trifles adapted for presents, and would have chosen as many more had not mamma held up a banker's check! The warning was understood—one and ninepence was received in change of a bill of one hundred pounds—and still they lingered. The bride elect had a purchase of her own to make. A shawl—a good, but not a fine one—was selected and paid for by herself, and presented, with a kind pressure of the hand (which would elsewhere have been a kiss), to the useful cousin. The carriage drew up, and the party retired in search of the millinery elsewhere!
Scarcely was the seat of honor vacated by the bridal party, when it was filled by another matron and her fair daughter; but no comfortable carriage set her down—no obsequious footman ushered her into Messrs. Swan and Edgar's emporium. The lady before me—for she was a lady, despite her russet gown and plain straw bonnet—had originally been as richly gifted by nature as her predecessor; but care, not time, had evidently wrought its ravages on her countenance. She looked faded and worn, took her seat with an air of embarrassment, and with a slight nervousness of manner asked to speak with "one of the principals of the establishment." During the brief interval previous to his arrival, her countenance underwent many changes, as though she were nerving herself for some painful effort. The arrival of the official, however, at once restored her self-possession. With a calm, sweet voice, she stated her business. She said she was the wife of a naval officer of limited means about to emigrate, and wished to make rather an extensive purchase, but that, as under such circumstances quantity rather than fashion was the object of her attainment, she desired to know if she could be thus supplied on terms of advantage? The reply was in the affirmative, and, with a delicacy of feeling that did honor to the speaker, he himself superintended her commission. He felt instinctively that he was addressing a gentlewoman in the best sense of the term; as much material was paid for by a fifty pound note as would have clad a dozen people. The fearful plunge once over, the manner of the lady became more assured, her daughter looked fairer than ever, and I felt, despite the frowns of fortune, she was an enviable woman.
How much, how very much, said I to myself, are the unavoidable evils of life felt, when (as in the present instance) they fall to the lot of one gifted with the step-dame dower of acute sensibility. To such the privations of poverty are far less galling than the ever-present dread of the "proud man's contumely." To minds thus constituted, misfortune feels like crime, and nothing short of the wisdom that is from above can enable its possessor to bear the burthen unrepiningly. I looked upon the lady before me, and felt, despite the lowly attire and faded form, that of the many whose riddle I had read, she was to me the heroine of the day.
The present was forgotten; my mind had travelled to scenes beyond the Atlantic. Already had I