And now comes an exhibition of my mesmeritic powers, always
"handkerchiefly speaking," that may surprise those who have not
attended to the modern science of invisible fluids. It is by this
means, however, that I am enabled to perceive a great deal of that
which passes under the roof where I may happen to be, without
absolutely seeing it. Much escapes me, of course--for even a
pocket-handkerchief cannot hear or see every thing; but enough is
learned to enable me to furnish a very clear outline of that which
occurs near me; more especially if it happen to be within walls of
brick. In wooden edifices I find my powers much diminished--the fluids,
doubtless, escaping through the pores of the material.
That evening, then, at the usual hour, and while I lay snugly ensconced
in a most fragrant and convenient drawer, among various other beings of
my species, though not of my family, alas! the inmates of the house
assembled in the front drawing-room to take a few cups of tea. Mr. and
Mrs. Monson, with their only son, John Monson, their three daughters,
the governess, and Betts Shoreham, were all present; the latter having
dropped in with a new novel for the ladies.
"I do really wish one could see a little advance in the way of real
refinement and true elegance among all the vast improvements we are
making in frippery and follies," cried Mr. Monson, throwing down an
evening paper in a pettish manner, that sufficiently denoted
discontent. "We are always puffing our own progress in America, without
exactly knowing whether a good deal of the road is not to be traveled
over again, by way of undoing much that we have done. Here, now, is a
specimen of our march in folly, in an advertisement of Bobbinett's, who
has pocket-handkerchiefs at $75."
"By the dozen, or by the gross, sir?" demanded Betts Shoreham, quickly.
"Oh, singly--seventy-five dollars each."
"Nay, that MUST be a mistake, sir! who, even in this extravagant and
reckless country, could be found to pay such a price? One can fancy
such a thing in a princess, with hundreds of thousands of income, but
scarcely of any one else. How could such a thing be USED, for instance?"
"Oh," cried John Monson, "to hide the blushes of the simpleton who had
thrown away her money on it. I heard a story this very afternoon, of
some person of the name of Halfacre's having failed yesterday, and
whose daughter purchased even a higher priced handkerchief than that
the very same day."
"His failure is not surprising, then," put in Betts Shoreham. "For
myself, I do not think that I----"
"Well, WHAT do you think, Mr. Shoreham?" asked Mrs. Monson, smiling,
for she saw that Julia was too much mortified to speak, and who assumed
more than half the blame of her own daughter's extravagance. "You were
about to favor us with some magnificent resolution."
"I was about to utter an impertinence, I confess, ma'am, but
recollected in time, that young men's protestations of what THEY would
do by way of reforming the world, is not of half the importance to
others that they so often fancy; so I shall spare you the infliction.
Seventy-five dollars, Mademoiselle Hennequin, would be a high price for
such a thing, even in Paris, I fancy."
The answer was given in imperfect English, a circumstance that rendered
the sweet round tones of the speaker very agreeable to the ear, and
lent the charm of piquancy to what she said. I could not distinguish
countenances from the drawer, but I fancied young Shoreham to be a
handsome youth, the governess to be pale and slightly ugly, though very
agreeable in manner, and Julia excessively embarrassed, but determined
to defend her purchase, should it become necessary.
"Seventy-five dollars sound like a high price, monsieur," answered
Mademoiselle Hennequin; "but the ladies of Paris do not grudge their
gold for ornaments to decorate their persons."
"Ay," put in John Monson, "but they are consistent. Now I'll engage
this Mrs. Hundredacres, or Halfacre, or whatever her name may be,
overlooked her own household work, kept no housekeeper, higgled about
flour and butter, and lived half her time in her basement. Think of
such a woman's giving her daughter a hundred-dollar
pocket-handkerchief."
Now Mrs. Monson DID keep a housekeeper; she was NOT a mere
upper-servant in her own family, and Julia was gratified that, in this
instance, her fastidious brother could not reproach HER at least.
"Well, Jack, that is a queer reason of yours;" cried the father, "for
not indulging in a luxury; because the good woman is careful in some
things, she is not to be a little extravagant in others. What do YOU
say to such logic, Mr. Shoreham?"
"To own the truth, sir, I am much of Monson's way of thinking. It is as
necessary to begin at the bottom in constructing a scheme of domestic
refinement, as in building a house. Fitness is entitled to a place in
every thing that relates to taste, at all events; and as a laced and
embroidered pocket-handkerchief is altogether for appearance, it
becomes necessary that other things should be in keeping. If the ladies
will excuse me, I will say that I never yet saw a woman in America, in
a sufficiently high dress to justify such an appendage as that which
Monson has just mentioned. The handkerchief ought not to cost more than
the rest of the toilette."
"It is true, Mr. Shoreham," put in Julia, with vivacity, if not with
spirit, "that our women do not dress as women of rank sometimes dress
in Europe; but, on the whole, I do not know that we are so much behind
them in appearance."
"Very far from it, my dear Miss Monson--as far as possible--I am the
last man to decry my beautiful countrywomen, who are second to no
others in appearance, certainly; if they do not dress as richly, it is
because they do not need it. Mademoiselle Hennequin has no reason to
deprecate comparisons--and--but--"
"Certainly," answered the governess, when she found the young man
hesitated about proceeding, "certainly; I am not so bigoted, or so
blind, as to wish to deny that the American ladies are very
handsome--handsomer, as a whole, than those of my own country. It would
be idle to deny it--so are those of England and Italy."
"This is being very liberal, Mademoiselle Hennequin, and more than you
are required to admit," observed Mrs. Monson, in the kindest possible
tone of voice, and I make no manner of doubt with a most benevolent
smile, though I could not see her. "Some of the most brilliantly
beautiful women I have ever seen, have been French--perhaps the MOST
brilliantly beautiful."
"That is true, also, madame; but such is not the rule, I think. Both
the English and Americans seem to me handsomer, as a whole, than my own
countrywomen." Now, nothing could be sweeter, or softer, or gentler,
than the voice that made this great concession--for great it certainly
was, as coming from a woman. It appeared to me that the admission, too,
was more than commonly generous, from the circumstance that the
governess was not particularly pretty in her own person. It is true, I
had not yet seen her, but my mesmeritic impulses induced me to fancy as
much.
"What say the YOUNG gentlemen to this?" asked Mr. Monson, laughing.
"This is a question not to be settled altogether by ladies, old or
young."
"Betts Shoreham has substantially told you what HE thinks; and now I
claim a right to give MY opinion," cried John Monson. "Like Betts, I
will not decry my countrywomen, but I shall protest against the
doctrine of their having ALL the beauty in the world. By Jove! I have
seen in ONE opera-house at Rome, more beautiful women than I ever saw
together, before or since, in any other place. Broadway never equals
the corso, of a carnival."
{corso, of a carnival = the Corso, a main street in Rome, at Carnival
time}
"This is not sticking to the subject," observed Mrs. Monson.
"Pocket-handkerchiefs and housekeepers are our themes, and not pretty
women. Mademoiselle Hennequin, you are French enough, I am sure, to
like more sugar in your tea."
This changed the subject, which became a desultory discourse on the
news of the day. I could not understand half that was said, laboring
under the disadvantage of being shut up in a close drawer, on another
floor; and that, too, with six dozen of chattering French gloves lying
within a foot of me. Still I saw plainly enough, that Mademoiselle
Hennequin, notwithstanding she was a governess, was a favorite in the
family; and, I may add, out of it also--Betts Shoreham being no sort of
a connection of the Monsons. I thought, moreover, that I discovered
signs of cross-purposes, as between the young people, though I think a
pocket-handkerchief subject to those general laws, concerning secrets,
that are recognized among all honorable persons. Not having been
actually present on this occasion, should I proceed to relate ALL that
passed, or that I fancied passed, it would be degrading myself to the
level of those newspapers which are in the habit of retailing private
conversations, and which, like most small dealers in such things, never
retail fairly.
I saw no more of my mistress for a week. I have reason to think that
she had determined never to use me; but female resolutions, in matters
of dress, are not of the most inflexible nature. There was a certain
Mrs. Leamington, in New York, who gave a great ball about this time,
and being in the same set as the Monsons, the family was invited as a
matter of course. It would have surpassed the powers of self-denial to
keep me in the back-ground on such an occasion; and Julia, having first
cleared the way by owning her folly to a very indulgent father, and a
very tormenting brother, determined nobly to bring me out, let the
effect on Betts Shoreham be what it might. As the father had no female
friends to trouble him, he was asked to join the Monsons--the intimacy
fully warranting the step.
Julia never looked more lovely than she did that night. She anticipated
much pleasure, and her smiles were in proportion to her anticipations.
When all was ready, she took me from the drawer, let a single drop of
lavender fall in my bosom, and tripped down stairs toward the
drawing-room; Betts Shoreham and Mademoiselle Hennequin were together,
and, for a novelty, alone. I say, for a novelty, because the governess
had few opportunities to see any one without the presence of a third
person, and because her habits, as an unmarried and well educated
French woman, indisposed her to tete-a-tetes with the other sex. My
mistress was lynx-eyed in all that related to Betts Shoreham and the
governess. A single glance told her that their recent conversation had
been more than usually interesting; nor could I help seeing it
myself--the face of the governess being red, or in that condition
which, were she aught but a governess, would be called suffused with
blushes. Julia felt uncomfortable--she felt herself to be de trop; and
making an incoherent excuse, she had scarcely taken a seat on a sofa,
before she arose, left the room, and ran up stairs again. In doing so,
however, the poor girl left me inadvertently on the sofa she had so
suddenly quitted herself.
{de trop = one too many}
Betts Shoreham manifested no concern at this movement, though
Mademoiselle Hennequin precipitately changed her seat, which had been
quite near--approximately near, as one might say--to the chair occupied
by the gentleman. This new evolution placed the governess close at my
side. Now whatever might have been the subject of discourse between
these two young persons--for Mademoiselle Hennequin was quite as
youthful as my mistress, let her beauty be as it might--it was not
continued in my presence; on the contrary, the young lady turned her
eyes on me, instead of looking at her companion, and then she raised me
in her hand, and commenced a critical examination of my person.
"That is a very beautiful handkerchief, Mademoiselle Hennequin," said
Betts Shoreham, making the remark an excuse for following the young
lady to the sofa. "Had we heard of its existence, our remarks the other
night, on such a luxury, might have been more guarded."
No answer was given. The governess gazed on me intently, and tears
began to course down her cheeks, notwithstanding it was evident she
wished to conceal them. Ashamed of her weakness, she endeavored to
smile them away, and to appear cheerful.
"What is there in that pocket-handkerchief, dear Mademoiselle
Hennequin," asked Betts Shoreham, who had a pernicious habit of calling
young ladies with whom he was on terms of tolerable intimacy,
"dear,"--a habit that sometimes misled persons as to the degree of
interest he felt in his companions--"what CAN there be in that
pocket-handkerchief to excite tears from a mind and a heart like yours?"
"My mind and heart, Mr. Shoreham, are not as faultless, perhaps, as
your goodness would make them out to be. ENVY is a very natural feeling
for a woman in matters of dress, they say; and, certainly, I am not the
owner of so beautiful a pocket-handkerchief--pardon me, Mr. Shoreham; I
cannot command myself, and must be guilty of the rudeness of leaving
you alone, if----"
Mademoiselle Hennequin uttered no more, but rushed from the room, with
an impetuosity of manner and feeling that I have often had occasion to
remark in young French women. As a matter of course, I was left alone
with Betts Shoreham.
I shall conceal nothing that ought to be told. Betts Shoreham,
notwithstanding her dependent situation, and his own better fortunes,
loved the governess, and the governess loved Betts Shoreham. These were
facts that I discovered at a later day, though I began to suspect the
truth from that moment. Neither, however, knew of the other's passion,
though each hoped as an innocent and youthful love will hope, and each
trembled as each hoped. Nothing explicit had been said that evening;
but much, very much, in the way of sympathy and feeling had been
revealed, and but for the inopportune entrance of Julia and myself, all
might have been told.