AN EVENING PARTY.
Previous to the return home of Laura and Willie, the Leightons had seen
but little company for a family of their wealth and social position; but
now, instead of the heretofore quiet evenings, their superb parlors were
thronged with acquaintances and friends, for both Willie and Laura had
been favourites with both young and old.
Laura had intended giving a large party, but had deferred it till Willie
should return home; and soon after his arrival the invitations were
sent, and preparations were commenced for the contemplated party. I did
not expect, neither did I wish, to be included among the guests. I had
never attended a fashionable party in my life; and I thought, even were
I favoured with an invitation, that I should feel strangely out of place
amid so much display of wealth and fashion as I should be sure to meet
with at a party given by one of the most wealthy and influential
families in the city.
I was much surprised when I received from Laura a very cordial
invitation to attend her party. I at first declined the invitation,
saying that I was unaccustomed to any thing of the kind, and that as
most of the guests would be strangers to me, I should prefer not
attending; but when Mr. and Mrs. Leighton expressed their wish that I
should attend the party, I overcame my reluctance and consented.
The evening at length came, and although I anticipated but little
pleasure from the party, I felt a degree of restlessness and expectation
when the appointed evening arrived. My wardrobe was not furnished with
any superfluities in the way of dress, and my command of money was not
sufficient to allow of any extravagance in apparel. Laura kindly offered
to present me with a beautiful silk dress for the occasion, but I
delicately, though firmly, declined the gift, for I wished not to appear
otherwise than in my true position. I therefore selected the most
appropriate dress I possessed for the occasion; it was quite plain,
though of rich material. The only ornament I wore was a pearl necklace,
which had been a bridal gift to my mother.
Laura assisted me in making my toilette, and insisted that I should
allow her to place a few natural flowers in my hair, and to please her I
consented to wear them. Laura looked very lovely in the costly dress
purchased for the occasion; she also wore a set of diamond ornaments,
which her father had presented to her on her return from school.
As soon as we had finished our toilettes, we descended to the
drawing-room, where Mr. and Mrs. Leighton had already taken their
places, as it was near the hour when they might expect their guests to
begin to assemble.
I went down thus early to avoid the unpleasantness of entering the
brilliantly lighted drawing-room after it should be filled with guests.
I had requested of the Leightons that I might receive as few
introductions as possible under the circumstances. Truly it was a
brilliant assembly which soon filled those spacious apartments. Among
the guests who first arrived were a Mr. and Mrs. Lawton, with their
daughter, to whom Laura gave me an introduction.
Their kind attentions and lively conversation soon dispelled the feeling
of embarrassment with which I first found myself in the company of so
many wealthy and distinguished people.
Dancing was soon introduced. Dancing was an accomplishment which I had
never learned, as my mother disapproved of the amusement. Willie seemed
disappointed when he invited me to become his partner for the quadrille
then forming, and I replied that I did not dance. When he learned that I
did not dance he introduced to me a young gentleman by the name of
Shirley, who was seated near us, and who, for some reason or other, did
not join the dancers. Mr. Shirley's conversational powers were extremely
good, and we engaged in conversation for some time, in the course of
which I enquired why he refrained from dancing? A shade of sadness
passed over his countenance as he replied,--
"When a mere youth I was very fond of the amusement, and devoted much
time to the practice of it. I believe it is the only thing which I ever
knowingly did against the wishes of my parents; but my fondness for
dancing amounted almost to a passion, and I often frequented the giddy
ball-room when I knew that I was grieving my fond parents by so doing.
My father and mother considered dancing a sinful amusement; but as my
inclination to follow it was so strong, they finally forbore to admonish
me further.
"When I was about twenty years of age my mother died. I was then
residing at a distance from home. When mother's illness became alarming,
I was summoned home. I was tenderly attached to my mother, and my grief
was overwhelming when I saw that she must die. A short time before her
death, she said to me one day, when we chanced to be left alone, 'My
dear son, there is one subject upon which I wish to speak with you, 'ere
I leave you for ever. You know I have ever considered dancing to be a
sinful amusement. There may be no sin in the simple act of dancing, but
it is an amusement which certainly has a tendency to evil. I know that
you very much enjoy it, but you are now capable of serious reflection,
and allow me to ask you if you feel in a suitable frame of mind for
prayer and meditation when you retire to your room after having spent
the evening in the frivolous amusement of dancing?' This was an argument
which I could neither gainsay nor resist, and coming as it did from the
lips of my dying mother, I was much affected by it. Before leaving my
mother's room, I solemnly promised her that I would never again
participate in the amusement of dancing, and that promise I have most
sacredly kept. I now often wonder that I could ever have been so fond of
an amusement which at the best affords so little real enjoyment to its
votaries. I trust you will pardon the liberty which I have taken in
talking so long of myself to you, an entire stranger; but when you
enquired my reason for not joining in the dance, something in your
countenance impelled me to be thus candid in my answer."
We remained for some time longer in conversation, and I really began to
enjoy the party. There were several ladies and gentlemen seated near us,
engaged also in conversation, and I could not avoid hearing much that
passed among them. Presently I heard a lady enquire of a Mrs. Kingsley,
a lady to whom I had been introduced in the early part of the evening,--
"Who is that young lady with whom Mr. Shirley has been so long
conversing?"
"Oh!" she replied, "she is _only_ the governess in Mrs. Leighton's
family. A _person_, as I am informed, of good education, but very poor,
and obliged to teach as a means of support for herself and mother, who
is a widow."
Why should I have felt so indignant at those words, which, if
maliciously intended, were certainly true? I suppose the attentions I
was receiving at this my first party were causing me to forget my true
position. The lady who had first spoken remarked further to Mrs.
Kingsley,--
"Don't you think her very pretty--almost beautiful? I think I never
before saw so intelligent a countenance."
Mrs. Kingsley replied,--
"I see nothing so very intelligent in her countenance, and if you
consider her pretty, I must say that I am astonished at your taste;
indeed I think her quite common-looking. I almost wonder that the
Leightons should have made her a guest at a party with their friends;
but then Miss Laura is kind-hearted, and I presume invited her out of
pity--those _poor people_ have so few pleasures."
"Hush! She may hear you."
And they changed the subject. I had, however, heard quite enough to
spoil my enjoyment for the rest of the evening. I was young and
inexperienced then, and this was my first, though by no means my last,
lesson in those distinctions which the world draws between the rich and
the poor. Had I possessed a little more knowledge of the world I should
better have understood the matter, knowing as I did, that Mrs. Kingsley
had an unmarried daughter present, of uncertain age, with a fair
prospect of remaining for some time longer in her state of single
blessedness. I forbear describing Miss Kingsley, and will only say that
if Mrs. Kingsley thought me common-looking, I, on the contrary, thought
her daughter, Miss Kingsley, to be very uncommon-looking.
After the remarks to which I had been an unwilling listener, I derived
very little pleasure from the party. I mentally said, if my poverty is
to be made a subject of conversation in parties like this, I wish never
to attend another; and I was heartily glad when the gay assembly
departed, at two o'clock in the morning.
Thus ended my first party, which would have afforded me much enjoyment
had I not chanced to hear those annoying remarks from Mrs. Kingsley.
The party given by the Leightons was soon succeeded by others among
their numerous acquaintances. To several of those parties I was favored
with invitations, which I invariably declined, for I had decided to
attend no more fashionable parties. At length, when urged by the
Leightons to give my reasons for steadily refusing all invitations, I
informed them of the remarks I had overheard from Mrs. Kingsley on the
night of Laura's party. Never shall I forget the look of scorn and
contempt with which Willie Leighton listened as I related the
circumstance; but he made no remark, as he knew Mrs. Kingsley to be one
of his mother's most intimate friends. Mrs. Leighton remarked that Mrs.
Kingsley possessed many good qualities, although she was sometimes
inclined to make malicious remarks.