For a sentimental young man the "language of flowers" presents a very "taking" subject for conversation; while to the scientific bachelor, a conservatory affords an easy means for a botanical discussion; besides, the examination of a plant is sure to bring the faces of the couple into proximity; and no disciple of Linnæus, however ardent, is proof against that peculiar thrill which is caused by a pretty girl's glossy and perfumed ringlets brushing against the cheek.
With the matter-of-fact young man a conservatory is quite as useful. He likes his own comfort better than anything else, and considers the supper the best part of the evening; a seat among the flowers saves him the trouble of dancing, so that he will think any young lady "a very sensible girl" for proposing such a thing; and, as he considers himself a very sensible young man, why of course the sensible young man would like a sensible young lady for his wife.
In all these arrangements a maiden aunt, or the useful "friend of the family," should be stationed near the conservatory door; for occasionally the "dear girls" are disposed to flirt with Captains, with large moustachios and small means. All elderly mammas having unmarried daughters should be carefully excluded, as every mother of a family is well known to take a malicious delight in interrupting promising affairs of this kind, when their own girls do not form part of the tête-à-tête.
Believe me, my dear Friends, yours very sincerely,
A Victim to a Conservatory.
ADVICE TO YOUNG LADIES.
My Dear Creatures,
Yes, you are all dear to me—so dear that when I watch you, as I do at times, most anxiously, I feel how sadly you stand in need of an adviser.
But do not alarm yourselves! I am not going to be ill-natured. No! I will not find fault with Miss Crinoline's bustle; though I certainly must confess it is rather absurd to see her doing the very agreeable in one room, with the hind breadths of her skirt half-way across another. Nor will I say anything to Miss Nude about wearing her dresses so low as she does; for though I am an ardent admirer of the "blanches épaules," still I cannot help observing that she does allow her gown to slip a leetle too far off her shoulders sometimes. But I can't spare Miss Carney, who calls Miss Nude "dear," and then tells me confidentially, "how bad it looks to see such a nice girl as she is go about with her shoulders so dreadfully exposed; that it really makes people think her so bold, and that it's pity some one doesn't tell her of it." And this Miss Carney does with a look of such pretty pity that for a moment I think she is the most good-natured creature since Mrs. Adam, and feel inclined to run and tell the bare shoulders that she ought to be ashamed of herself. It's a great mark of talent in a young lady, by-the-bye, to be able to say ill-natured things in a good-natured way.
And I should most strongly recommend Miss Madonna, who wears her hair plain, not to find fault with Miss Chevelure's crisp ringlets. Why should Miss Madonna say they are not becoming? Miss Chevelure's soft blue eyes and aquiline nose certainly proclaim her to be the prettier of the two; and I would bet my favourite whisker that Miss Madonna is a far better customer to Isadore for cosmetique, bandoline, fixature, and other toilet luxuries than she of the crisp ringlets whom she decries. And why should Miss Madonna be severe upon Miss Blue Stocking (whom she calls her "dear Cloè," and rushes to embrace when she enters the room)? Why should she say that Miss Blue Stocking has her hair dressed "à la Chinoise," to show off her forehead, and make her look more intellectual? But I don't believe it; though I certainly must say that it would be better if the fair bas bleu did wear her hair a little less like the ladies of China, and a little more like those of England.