“I suppose I was a little too sweeping in saying that,” said Oscar. “But I do think it is a great fault in many girls, that they think and say so much about dress. I’ve thought of it a great many times.”
“Now you’re talking sensibly,” said Aunt Fanny. “I think we all, ladies as well as gentlemen, will agree with you there. We are all acquainted with women and girls who seem to think more of dressing well and looking pretty than of anything else. I have known women whose whole souls seemed to be bound up in dress; but their souls were very small, you may depend upon that.”
“I think there is something very belittling and dwarfing to the mind, in a love of dress and finery,” said Mrs. Page. “I knew a woman who was a great lover of dress, who, at the age of forty, had no more judgment, or stability, or strength of mind, than a child ten years old; and yet she was naturally a person of good capacities. She devoted her mind to such petty trifles, that instead of expanding as she grew older, it shrivelled up.”
“I have heard,” said Oscar, “that intelligent foreigners are astonished by the parade of silks, and satins, and jewelry, which American ladies make in the streets, and in the hotels and watering places. They say our merchants’ and mechanics’ wives and daughters often dress more extravagantly than the nobility of Europe.”
“Mother used to say,” said Jessie, “that the best rule is, to dress so that people will not notice what you have on. I think if I had ever so much money, I should not want to dress so as to attract attention, and occasion remark; neither do I want to dress so poorly, or be so far out of fashion, that people cannot help noticing me.”
“That is a safe and excellent rule,” said Mrs. Page, “to dress so that people will not recollect what you had on. There is a command in the Bible, particularly addressed to women, which we should do well to remember: ‘Whose adorning, let it not be that outward adorning of plaiting the hair, and of wearing of gold, or of putting on of apparel; but let it be the hidden man of the heart, in that which is not corruptible, even the ornament of a meek and quiet spirit, which is in the sight of God of great price.’”
“What is the name of the firm that Abby’s father is the head of?” inquired Marcus, who had brought in a lamp, and was reading the morning newspaper.
“Leonard, Vandenberg & Co.,” replied Ronald; “I thought everybody in town knew that by heart, she’s told of it so many times.”
“They have failed,” said Marcus, his eye still upon the paper; and then he read the telegraph despatch which announced the fact. It was as follows:
“Leonard, Vandenberg & Co., one of our largest commission houses, suspended to-day. Mr. Vandenberg mysteriously disappeared last week, and it is rumored that he has embezzled a large portion of the firm’s assets. The other partners have surrendered everything, but the failure is believed to be a very bad one.”