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.