CHAPTER XVIII

AMERICAN WOMEN IN PARIS

Every year in Paris, in springtime, we see the American women reappear

with the regularity of the swallow. We expect them, we watch for their

arrival, and we are delighted when we hear them say, with their singing

voices, that they have come for our season, which begins in April and

goes on till 'The Grand Prix' is run during the second week of June.

The American woman is not only received, but eagerly sought in our most

aristocratic society. Her amiability and brilliancy have forced open the

doors of our most exclusive mansions. She affords so much pleasure that

she is indispensable. We are dull without her, because she is not only

beautiful and a feast for the eyes, but she is bright, brilliant, witty,

unconventional, and a feast for the mind. It is thanks to all these

qualities, far more than to her dollars, that the American woman is

to-day part and parcel of what is called 'Tout Paris.' And, indeed,

there is no woman in the world so attractive as the fair daughter of

Uncle Sam. Her physical, moral, and intellectual charms make her the

most interesting woman one may wish to meet.

The English woman is very often beautiful. Her freshness is exquisite,

her figure excellent when she knows how to enhance its beauty by

well-made garments. She is, perhaps, beyond competition when she is

really beautiful, but her beauty is too often statuesque, and lacks

lustre and piquancy. The French woman is supple and graceful, but she is

more fascinating by her manner, by her chic, than by the beauty of her

complexion, the regularity of her features, and the proportions of her

figure. The German is often fine, but generally heavy, compact, and

lacking elegance.

The American woman is an altogether. She has the piquancy, the

fascinating manner, the elegance, the grace, and the gait of the

Parisienne; but, besides, she often possesses the eyes of a Spaniard,

the proud figure of a Roman, and the delicate features of an English

woman. If, during the Paris season, you walk in the Champs-Elysees

district, where all the best Americans are settled, you will admire

those women looking radiant with intelligence, cheerful, independent,

who, you can see, have the consciousness of their value.

The education which she has received has developed all her faculties.

The liberty she always enjoyed, the constant attentions she has received

from father, brother, husband, and all her male friends, have made her

feel safe everywhere, and she goes about freely, with a firm step that

stamps her American. Thanks to her finesse, her power of observation,

her native adaptability, she can fit herself for every station of life.

If one day she finds herself mistress of the White House or Vice-Queen

of India, she immediately feels at home. She may be ever so learned, she

is never a pedant. She is, and remains, a woman in whose company a man

feels at once at his ease; a sort of fascinating good fellow, with all

the best attributes of womanhood; a little of a coquette, with a

suspicion of a touch of blue-stocking--but so little. She loves dresses,

and none puts them on better than she does. English women, even the most

elegant ones at home, seldom favour us, when they visit us, but with all

the worst frumps and frippery they can find in their wardrobe. The

American women are considerate enough to try and do their best for us,

and we appreciate the compliment. And thus they brighten our theatres,

our promenades, our balls and dinner-parties, our fashionable

restaurants, and Paris, which loves them, could not now do without

them.

Rambles in Womanland · 第 18 / 36 章