Constance Leslie hesitated. "The woman who hesitates is lost;" the temptation was great, the things were certainly becoming; a certain birthday gift was in expectation; the economical arguments were very specious. She yielded; and against her better judgment consented to the milliner's plan. She was but a girl—let that plead in her favor; but there are women, wives, and mothers, who condescend to this meanness, who systematically deceive their husbands in this matter, and yet profess to love and revere them; who, involved in debt themselves, rail at the artifice and extravagance of their servants, who, while their whole life is a subterfuge, affect horror at falsehood. Oh! did they but know how contemptible such conduct is; how maid and trader despise them! Their husbands believe them—how can they doubt a wife's truth? but to others the lie is transparent! and often an insolvent is supposed to have been cognizant of extravagances which his misfortunes alone revealed to him. And for what do they weave a tissue of untruths? for what do they tremble at the slightest word or glance which may betray their secret? From the most paltry and frivolous motives—often from mere thoughtlessness.
To return to my story. It is time I should properly introduce Miss Leslie to my readers. She was an only daughter, having long lost her mother, and had for years been her father's housekeeper. He was of that most unfortunate class—a poor man bound to hide his poverty and preserve certain appearances. Strict economy was necessary to effect this; and hitherto Constance had aided him well, indeed. He was rather proud of the tact with which she made the most of their narrow income; for she had good taste and good sense, and these united achieve wonders. There was no attempt at display; but all was in such good keeping, the whole was so respectable, that few suspected their limited means. Mr. Leslie's income was so fluctuating, that he was strict on one point only: he would incur no bills on any pretext whatever; beyond this, Constance was uncontrolled, and laid out his funds as she pleased. Her brothers were growing up, and had to be pushed forward in the world; the well-doing of the whole family seemed at present to depend on the father's position. Now, when the force of appearances is not carried further than this, should we blame it? We are all bound to lay out our money to the best advantage; an appearance of easy means, when not based on debt, most frequently leads to the reality. The world can only judge by what it sees—good broadcloth invariably attracts respect, and it is of high importance to young people having their way to make in the world, that their home should stand well with it. Mr. Leslie made no pretensions to riches; he merely endeavored to hide his want of them, and succeeded.
"That's a very smart bonnet of yours, Constance; I hope you have not gone beyond your stint—"
"Only a few shillings, papa."
She thus evaded, as she thought, a direct falsehood, well knowing all the while that fifteen shillings were far from being "a few" to them.
"It is a very great bargain, and Mrs. Grey advised it, as it will last two summers with care."
"Well, well, don't look so annoyed about it, my dear; a shilling or two, more or less, breaks no squares; but the fact is, I am rather sorry you have chosen such a dashing affair. I have had one or two losses lately, as is well known in the room, and your bonnet may be remarked on."
Constance's tears now flowed freely; but she dared not confess her fault.
"Never mind, my love, we are no worse off than our neighbors. Indeed, I should not have mentioned this, only it will guide you in your purchases and in your behavior at your uncle's. I was obliged to ask a little assistance from him respecting Edward's premium, and this last pull has prevented my paying him at the promised time. I gave him a bill, and could not take it up; but I have left off part of my office, and shall soon be all right again."
"Oh, papa, you will be so uncomfortable without a private room."