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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/15179-8.txt b/15179-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..b4cd24e --- /dev/null +++ b/15179-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,2295 @@ +Project Gutenberg's The Inner Sisterhood, by Douglass Sherley et al. + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Inner Sisterhood + A Social Study in High Colors + +Author: Douglass Sherley et al. + +Release Date: February 26, 2005 [EBook #15179] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE INNER SISTERHOOD *** + + + + +Produced by Kentuckiana Digital Library, David Garcia and the PG +Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net/ + + + + + + + + + + + +The Inner Sisterhood. + + + + + +The Inner Sisterhood + +T.I.S. + +--A SOCIAL STUDY IN HIGH COLORS-- + +by + +DOUGLASS SHERLEY + +WHO WROTE + +The Valley of Unrest: A Book without a Woman + + + 1884 + IMPRIMARY + LOUISVILLE, KENTUCKY + JOHN P. MORTON AND COMPANY + + + * * * * * + + Copyrighted according to Law, + 1884, + By Douglass Sherley. + + * * * * * + + +The Inner Sisterhood. + +Dedicated to + +One of the Sisterhood. + + + * * * * * + + + + I + + II + + III + + IV + + V + + VI + + VII + + + * * * * * + + + +Just After the Ball: + +Miss Kate Meadows. + + +ROBERT FAIRFIELD, LOVER: + +Miss Belle Mason. + + +THE BUZZ-SAW GIRL: + +Miss Alice Wing. + + +FLIRTING FOR REVENUE ONLY: + +Miss Rose Clendennin. + + +Mother and Daughter: + +Miss Sophia Gilder. + + +A CASE OF COMPOUND FRACTURE. + +Miss Mary Lee Manley. + + +Platitudes and Pleasures: + +Miss Lena Searlwood. + + + * * * * * + + + I + + A Bit of Sweet Simplicity + In Blue. + + + * * * * * + + + + +Just After The Ball. + + +The storm-door closes with a bang! My escort, a stupid fellow, has +said "Good-night!" He drives down the street in his old rattletrap +of a coupe. I am so glad he is gone! And yet I am always afraid of +burglars--or--something dreadful, whenever I go into the house alone +so late at night. I bolt the inside door. I mount the hall-chair, left +waiting by papa, and, trembling with a nameless fear, turn out the gas +and leave myself in darkness. I make two vain dashes for the stair; a +third, and I have found it. I grope for the heavy rail and go rapidly +up, two steps at a time, and finally, out of breath, badly frightened, +reach my room. What a relief! I turn on the light--two, three, yes, four +burners, and wish for more. I stir up the fire into a blaze; look over +my left shoulder, but see nothing; listen, but hear nothing. I wheel +my dressing-table near by; seat myself before the pretty oval mirror. +I tear off those ugly blossoms, sent by that stupid man for me to wear; +I look long and earnestly at the tired face I see reflected in the pretty +oval mirror, with its beveled edges and dainty drapery of pink silk and +pure white mull. It is not a pretty face; even my friends do not think +me beautiful. Yet I sometimes fancy--alas! perhaps it is only a +fancy--that I have on my face a suggestion of beauty, even if beauty +itself be absent. My eyes are full and dark, with long lashes; my mouth +is somewhat large, not a good shape either, and some people--who do not +like me--say that they can easily detect a hard, cold expression which +does not please them. But my profile is good in spite of my ill-featured +mouth, and there is--generally acknowledged--a certain high-born, +well-bred look about the poise of my shapely head which gains for me +more than a mere passing notice. My manners are pronounced "charming," +and by many--those who like me--charmingly faultless. So, after all, in +spite of this lack of a positive style of beauty, I am what might be +termed a "social success." But it is a social success which I have +slowly gained, with much labor, and its duration is somewhat uncertain. +I am just beginning to be sure of myself, although this is my fourth +winter out. True, I have almost always had an escort to every thing +given, but I have never been able to fully assert myself. Now, wherever +I go, I boldly, and without fear, seek out some comfortable place in +some one room, at reception, party, or ball, and rest assured that all +of my now-many friends and half dozen or more lovers will seek me out, +and having found me, will linger about me the entire evening; and if +I like, I need not even move from that one pleasant place during the +entertainment, but have my supper brought to me and the two or three +other girls who make up our set, for you know it is so disagreeable to +crowd into the supper-room; it is a vulgar eagerness, that carries with +it a low-born air of actual hunger, and it is so vulgar to be hungry; +and our set is so well-born and so well-reared. But, O, my! my hair's +all in a tangle; comes of trying to do it up in a Langtry-knot. I don't +think it is a nice way to fix hair, anyhow. I like to pile mine on the +top of my head. Don't much care if people like it or not. And yet--well, +yes, I believe I do care a little bit. I suppose I'll have to take it +down myself to-night, and not call the maid, because she's very tired, +and when she's tired she's cross; I hate cross people. But I ought not +to blame her, because I've been out four nights this week, and the +musicale is to-morrow evening. The musicales are always so nice--for +people who like music, and I have many friends who are so devoted to +music, at least they say they are. O, this is such a gay season! I don't +know why, but people say it is always going to be dull, and yet, it is +always so gay. The men go down to the Pelham Club a great deal more than +they ought, and yet they don't neglect us entirely; and surely we have +no reason to complain for a lack of parties. Just think of it! three +crushes in two weeks, seven small affairs, excellent play at the theater +all of next week, and I already have three nights engaged, and a chance +of two more. That stupid fellow said something about would I like to go +with him some time during the week. How provokingly vague! But he never +made it more definite and final; just never said another word about it. +I hate men who neglect things. + +Now, my hair is all combed out, and it's not a bad color, either. I +never knew that Belle Mason to have as good a time as she undoubtedly +had to-night. She was actually surrounded the entire evening; four or +five men all the time, and I not more than three. I never did like her; +she has such a conceited air; and now she'll be worse than ever. But I +should not have cared if every other man in the house had stood by her +the entire evening, but to think that even Robert Fairfield was with her +constantly! He only bowed _AT ME_ from across the room, and never +came near me. At the Monday-night German he gave me, with a hand-touch +and a smile, this red rose, then a bud, and I, foolishly, wore it +to-night, although it was faded. The horrid, withered thing! Yes, I was +actually foolish enough to wear it for his sake, and he all the time by +the side of Belle Mason! It was a brilliant affair to-night--so every +body said; at least a dozen said as much to me, and I heard a great many +more saying that same thing to our hostess. All the people really seemed +to have a good time. But somehow I didn't enjoy myself much, and there +are several reasons why. I abominate going out with a stupid man; but +there was no other to go with, so it was an absolute necessity, because +go I must. He brought a shabby, uncomfortable coupe. He had sent ugly, +dabby flowers; and he hung about me the entire evening with the silent, +confident air of the young person who fancies himself engaged to you. +He said nothing; he did nothing--except bring me a melted ice; but he +looked a number of unutterably stupid things. And I heard more than one +woman, in a loud, coarse whisper, say, "I wonder why she came with that +stupid stick of a man?" But, of course, they didn't mean for me to hear +it; they would not be so unkind; but, unfortunately for my comfort, I +did hear, and every word. But that was not all. It's a hard thing for a +woman, in a gay season, to appear each night in a new dress. Of course +you can have one nice, white dress, and change the ribbons--sometimes +pink, sometimes blue, or any color that may happen to strike your +fancy--but sooner or later people will find that out; they will just +know it's the same dress with other ribbons, and it's a social deception +which fashionable society-idiots just will not tolerate. You must appear +in a new dress or an old dress, undisguised. Now, to-night, how was +I to know that Mrs. Babbington Brooks could afford to give so elegant +an affair, or in fact would be able to induce so large a number of +the best and nicest people in town to be present at this, her first +entertainment. People said it was going to be crude, perhaps +disagreeable. So I wore that pale-blue silk--old shade of blue--which +I almost ruined at the Monday-night German. When I entered the +dressing-room four or five of my best girl-friends affectionately kissed +me on the cheek, and exclaimed something about being so glad that I had +worn my pretty, pale-blue silk, and that it was so becoming; and was it +not that same "love-of-a-dress" which I had worn at the Monday-night +German? Now I really would believe those girls malicious if I did not +know they were--each one of the dear, sweet creatures--_perfectly +devoted_ to me; because they have told me of their devotion many +times, and I know they would not say any thing they did not mean--girls +in our set never do! + +But this painful fact remains: my pale-blue silk is _not_ becoming! +I am entirely too dark to wear pale-blue, and I am just dying for a +terra-cotta. It's the loveliest shade in all the world! Papa likes blue, +so I ordered it to please him, because he is of the opinion that every +body looks well in that color, because mamma always looked well in blue +when she was young and beautiful. That reminds me what several old +married women said to me at the party to-night: "O, my dear, your mamma +was perfectly beautiful when she was your age! And she had so much +attention, and from such nice young men!" And they looked right at that +stupid fellow, for his silent stupidity had driven away all the other +men, who were just as nice as any of mamma's old beaus, too. But those +old ladies could not have meant any thing, because they are dear mamma's +most intimate friends, and I am sure must take a kindly interest in my +welfare. It's a dreadful thing to have had a beautiful mamma, when you +are not considered beautiful yourself, in fact barely good-looking. + +But quickly to bed, or I will look what I am, tired and worn-out, at the +musicale to-morrow evening. I must be fresh and well-rested, because I +am to play, and alone, a most difficult instrumental piece. It's one of +those lovely "Nocturnes." I wonder if I'll be encored? I was not when I +played at the last musicale. + +The lights are out! The fire burns low! I thrust back the little +dressing-table, with its pretty oval mirror, beveled edges, and dainty +drapery of pale pink silk and pure white mull. I tenderly take that +withered rose from off the floor, where I rudely tossed it in my anger +of an hour ago. + +I forget that stupid fellow, my escort; the pale-blue dress, so often +worn; the random words--idle, thoughtless, and unkind, at least in +their effect; even pretty Belle Mason fades away, and her charm and +her triumph no longer remembered against her. I go a-drifting from all +unpleasant memories! I murmur a prayer learned at mamma's knee long +years ago, and alas! for long years left unsaid. I kneel in the +firelight glow, I tenderly, fondly kiss that red rose. True, it is +withered and dead, yet how sweet it is to my lips, and how dear it is +to my heart! Something whispers that I love the man who gave it me! It +seems to quiver to life again, and tremulous with a strange, new joy, +I remember the hand-touch and the smile which came with the giving of +that red rose. + +[Illustration: +Miss Kate Meadows +(of the Inner Sisterhood)] + + + + + * * * * * + + + II + + A Dash of Jealousy and Hypocrisy + Done up in Old Gold. + + + * * * * * + + + + +ROBERT FAIRFIELD, LOVER. + + +Robert Fairfield is an average man among men--but he is something more: +He is the ideal man among women. All women have ideals, and there is +not, there can not be a more dangerous piece of heart-furniture. An +ideal is easily broken, sometimes badly damaged, always liable to +injury; and the heart of woman hath not one cabinet-maker who can, with +his touch and skill, bring back one departed charm, one lost beauty. + +I know this man--and yet I do not. I love him--and yet, again, I do not. +I suspect that, woman-like, I am more fond of his charming, delicate +attentions than I am of the man himself. I sometimes fancy that he loves +me; but I am wise enough in my day and generation to be painfully aware +of the fact that just about six other women entertain the same delicious +fancy. He has told me of his love, told me in a gentle, artistic +manner--and doubtless he has told the six other females the same story; +for he need not trouble himself to vary the telling each time, because +he has no fear of detection. + +He knows that he is never the topic of conversation among women. They +seldom, if ever, discuss their ideals, and all of them, myself included, +have a most evidently-conscious air whenever dear Robert's name happens +to be mentioned, no matter how trivial the mention. But I am the +least touched, and surely the more unresponsive of the entire seven, +consequently he is more devoted to me than to any of the others. He was +by my side the entire evening at Mrs. Babbington Brooks's elegant and +most fashionable ball the other night; he was my escort to the musicale +last Tuesday, and O, he did look so handsome! And he never before said +SO MANY positively tender things, and he said them in such a tired, +pathetic tone, that he almost won my heart; really, when I'm with the +man I am sure that I love him, and most devotedly. But I have perfect +control over myself and my limited supply of feeling--Henry Seyhmoor +says I am without a heart; so I only look at him full in the face when +he tells me all those tender little things, and then turn away with a +light laugh--assumed, of course--and gently but firmly remind him that +I am _not_ Kate Meadows. + +Ah, here is a note from him now! He always writes from the Club--the +Pelham, of course. I don't know the people who belong to any other Club. +What a nice thing it must be to go down to the Club at night, or +whenever you like--I wish I was a man. And this is his note: + + + "Your Platonic friend, Henry Seyhmoor, seems quite devoted here of + late, my dear Miss Mason. I saw you with him last evening at the + theater; your talk charmed him into unusual silence. How entertaining + you must have been! + + "Won't you go with me to the opera Friday night; and won't you be as + nice to me then as you were at the musicale--no, not that nice only, + but even nicer still--as nice--as--well--as I should like you to be; + won't you? + + "_Robert Fairfield_" + + +A note of mere nothings. My common sense tells me that much. Yet I find +myself forming words for myself between the written lines, and twice +read that dainty card, with the crest and motto of Pelham. Of course +I'll go with him; for to go with Robert Fairfield any where means a +delightful time to any girl so fortunate. It means a bunch of roses +almost heavenly in their sweet loveliness! It means the two best seats +in the theater! It means the turning of a hundred envious female eyes +from all parts of the crowded house; for our theater is always crowded +on Friday nights, no matter what the play or players may chance to be. +Because it is fashionable to go on Friday nights, and theatergoers in +this town are so fashionable. + +I am glad, at least once a year, that I am a Methodist, because we +don't keep Lent. But Kate Meadows is very high-church, and, of course, +she ought to keep it! I wonder if she will? She was not out during the +Langtry engagement; but that was on account of lack of men, not on +account of Lent; because her little brother told my Cousin Mary's little +girl that nobody had asked his sister to go any where for days and days, +and that his papa had to take her whenever she went any where. However, +I suppose she'll go, if she goes at all, with her papa; he often takes +her out. I heard her say that she did just love to go out with her dear +papa, and that it pleased him so much. Poor old man! I saw him nodding +and napping, nearly dead for sleep, the last time he was out with her. +It's a shame to keep him up so! As for myself, I would never go _any +where_ if I had to, for the lack of a man, always be dragging poor +papa out. It must be so very mortifying. But nothing could mortify +that girl; she is such an upstart. Her bonnets and her dresses are the +talk of the town, because they are so ugly and unbecoming. But she +has a gracious and pleasant manner, and sometimes has a good deal of +attention--whenever she once gets out. People frequently say nice +things about her; but I am sure it's their duty, because she entertains +charmingly and often. She never gives any thing like a regular party, +but quiet little affairs that are acknowledged to be very elegant by +all who are so fortunate as to be invited--because people never decline +invitations to her house. She is the only girl that I am afraid may +finally win Robert Fairfield. She's passionately, foolishly in love with +him! Why, I saw him give her a red rose-bud at our last Monday-night +German, off in the corner--he didn't know I was looking--and didn't I +see her wear that same red bud, then a withered rose, to Mrs. Babbington +Brooks' the following Thursday evening? She wore the shriveled thing on +her left shoulder, nestled down in a lover's knot of pale-blue ribbon. +But I made myself so agreeable and altogether lovely that dear Robert +F. did not go near her the entire evening; only gave her, from across +the room, by my side, the _bow of compensation_. He left that rose, +thanks to me and my successful efforts, to languish unnoticed in its +lover's knot of pale blue. Ah, Kate Meadows, that time your lover's +knot was made in vain! + +The "Earnest Workers," a society of our church, for ladies only, meets +this afternoon at four, and it's nearly that time now; so I must put on +what I call my "charity dress and poverty hat." It's such a good thing +to dress plain and religious-like now and then, just for a change, +especially when it's becoming. I will carry my little work-basket and +wear, as I go down the street, a quiet, sober smile, and cultivate a +pious air--a trifle pious anyhow. And if I chance to meet Mr. Fairfield +he will, of course, join me, and wonder as we walk how one so worldly +can be, at times, so charitably inclined and so full of such good works +and holy thoughts. I sometimes wish I was good. But it's so stupid to be +good, and the men don't like you half as well. And I am very willing to +acknowledge it, I like the admiration of men. I don't know any "balm in +Gilead" so sweet and altogether acceptable. + +But see! Down the street, right beneath my room-window, comes +_that_ Kate Meadows; and Robert Fairfield's with her! He holds her +prayer-book in his hand! How earnestly they are talking! I wonder what +it's about? What a tender look on his face turned full toward her +downcast eyes! O, the _hypocrite_! They are both hypocrites; we are +all hypocrites! On their way to that horrid afternoon Lenten service! +It's a whole square out of the way to come by this house! She did it on +purpose; I know it, I know it! She just wanted me to see her with him! +She's the meanest girl in this town! I always disliked her, and now I +fairly despise the very ground she walks on--when she's walking it with +him! She's coming to spend all of Tuesday morning with me; won't I be +gracious though! I'll kiss her three or four times, instead of the +regulation-twice! I _can_ be hypocritical, and _sauve_ too! +I don't wish I was good! I don't ever want to be good! They have turned +the corner! They are out of sight! I just won't go one step to the +"Earnest Workers!" It's all nonsense, any how! Just sewing, and +gossiping, and talking about the minister and his wife, and all the rest +of the congregation who are not there! No, _no_, NO! I'll just stay +right here at home, and I'll have--yes, I will--I'll have a real good +cry. + +[Illustration: +Miss Bella Mason. +(of the Inner Sisterhood.)] + + + + + * * * * * + + + III + + A Wild Fantasy + In Garrulous Red. + + + * * * * * + + + + +The Buzz-Saw Girl + + +I just must talk! I must talk all the time! Of course I talk entirely +too much--no one knows that any better than I do--yet I can not help it! +I know that my continual cackling is dreadful, and I know just exactly +when it begins to bore people, but somehow I can't stop myself, but go +right on and on in spite of myself. + +Aunt Patsey says I am simply fearful, and just like a girl she used to +know, who lived down-East, a Miss Polly Blanton, who talked _all_ +the time; told every thing, every thing she knew, every thing she had +ever heard; and then when she could think of nothing else, boldly began +on the _family secrets_. Well, I believe I am just like that +girl--because I am constantly telling things about our domestic life +which is by no means pleasant. Pa and ma lead an awful kind of an +existence--live just like cats and dogs. Now I ought never to tell that, +yet somehow it will slip out in spite of myself! + +My pa says I really do act as if I did not have good sense, and I am, +for the world, just like ma. And ma, she says I am without delicacy, +manners, or any of the other new touches that most girls have. As for +Aunt Patsey, she is _always_ after me! She is "Old Propriety" +itself! She goes in heavy for _good form_. "Not good form, my dear, +not good form!" is what I hear from morning until night. I do get so +tired of it! They are all real hard on me! No body ever gives me +encouragement, and yet every body is ready with heavy doses of +admonition! Now ma is a powerful big talker herself, although she won't +acknowledge it; but she always seems to know just what not to say! I +call that real talking-luck! I am so unlucky talking. + +But the big power in our house is Aunt Patsey Wing! There is always +bound to be such a person in every well-furnished house! They seem to +be just as necessary as the sofas and easy-chairs--but not quite so +comfortable to have around. We are all deathly afraid of her! She is +rich, stingy, and says that she has made a will, leaving every dollar +to the "Widows and Orphans' Home"--a nice way to do her relations! So of +course we are on the strain; on our best behavior to effect a change in +our favor. Ma says she will never, in this world, change it--and changes +made in any other world won't do us any good. But pa says he knows how +to break it! Mr. Meggley, her lawyer, who drew up the will, has made +an agreement to sell pa the flaw--for of course there is one in it, for +all wills have flaws--then he will employ another lawyer and break it +without any trouble. My, it will be so exciting! I suppose we will have +to prove that Aunt Patsey was of unsound mind. Pa will give us our +testimony to learn by heart! Pa is a real enterprising man! Some people +say he is a regular schemer, but Aunt Patsey says that he is a brilliant +financier! He has made and lost two or three big fortunes! He lost one +not long ago, and it is so hard just now to make both ends meet. But +Aunt Patsey pays a little board; that helps along, at least with the +table! + +Pa gives me a small allowance--when he has the money; then not one cent +more! I believe every body in town knows just how much he allows me! Pa +says I told it, myself. Perhaps I did; one can't remember every thing +one chances to say. Although my amount is small, yet I have quite a +little way of fixing myself, and always looking real nice. Aunt Patsey +says I do pretty well, until I open my big mouth and begin to rattle, +rattle, rattle! She says I talk more and say less than any body she has +ever known, except that down-East girl, Polly Blanton, who always +told--when in want of any other topic--the _family secrets_. Aunt +Patsey is forever-and-a-day preaching to me about _good form_; what +I ought, and what I ought not to do; sometimes repeats long passages +from the prayer-book--nearly all the morning service--then says, "It's +no use, no use; just like pouring water on a duck's back!" But she must +love to do useless things, for she just keeps right on. She says that +I ought to be able to keep silent once in a while, anyhow; but I don't +know _how_ to keep silent. + +Some body had to come and tell her--Aunt Patsey--that I talked a great +deal, and very loud, at the theater, between acts. Now the idea of +finding fault with girls, or any body, who talk _between acts!_ Why +it's just perfectly delightful! I begin the moment the curtain drops; +I don't even wait for the music to begin--it is such a waste of time! +I know that I do talk a little too loud; but just lots of real nice +persons talk real loud at the theater--it comes natural. When people +turn around and look at me as if I was really doing something dreadful, +then I talk ever and ever so much more! People can't frown _me_ +down--no indeed, double deed, not if Alice Wing knows any thing about +herself! People who know me never try; except my family, headed by Aunt +Patsey, who always says, "We are prompted by a deep sense of duty, my +dear, _duty_!" + +I am _almost engaged_! Even Aunt Patsey likes the man, and O, +so do I! He is nice and quiet, and just loves to hear me talk--never +interrupts me, but lets me go on, and looks at me so admiring-like all +the time! Ma says I am sure to spoil every thing by too much talking! He +is _so_ timid! I encourage him, though, all I can; he seems to like +encouragement _so_ much! He understands and appreciates me, too, +and that is a great deal; for most of the other men act so funny when +they are left alone with me! They nearly always have a solemn, almost +scared look--but I really don't know why! I must confess that I like +stupid men; they may not talk much, yet they seem real eager to listen! +Then stupid men always have such good manners, which, in society, counts +for a great deal! People who have good manners are so safe--they never +do any thing startling! I wish my manners were better--but they are +not! After one of Aunt Patsey's talks on _good form_, and strict +propriety, I try to improve--regenerate, if possible. I often watch Miss +Lena Searlwood, one of the older girls, who is a great favorite with +Aunt Patsey--but it is no use! She is a self-contained woman, never ill +at ease, and who puts you, and at once, at rights with yourself. She is +a most beautiful and discreet talker! She would rather die, burn at the +stake, suffer on the rack, than tell even the suspicion of a _family +secret_! Aunt Patsey is always talking her up to me, wishing that +I would be only a little bit like her anyhow. So the other night, at +a party, I took special care to notice the attractive Lena. She is so +graceful; quiet grace, ma calls it. She leaned against a heavy, carved +chimney-piece, with dark-red plush hangings, and she looked for all the +world just like a tall, white flower, slender, beautiful! She was slowly +picking to pieces, leaf by leaf, a pale-pink rose, which she had stolen +away from somewhere about her willowy, white throat. And while she was +doing all this--and it took quite a while, too--she looked full in the +face of the man by her side, that rather good-looking, stuck-up Calburt +Young, _and said nothing_--absolutely not a word! She did this long +enough to make me almost lose my breath. I could not do a thing like +that; it would give me nervous prostration sure! Yet, I know it is +very effective! It was just like some picture you read about, and it +was beautiful, striking, down to the smallest detail. But situations +effective, and details pleasing, are not in my line, and they are +just as much a mystery as improper fractions used to be when I was a +schoolgirl. I hated my school! It was called a "Young Ladies' Seminary." +It was a fashionable, intellectual hot-house, where premature, fleeting +blooms were cultivated regardless of any future consequence. But I +was a barren bush! I never fashion-flowered into a profusion of showy +blossoms. Aunt Patsey said that I did not reap the harvest of my golden +opportunities; but pa, he growled and grumbled a good deal when the +bills came pouring in, but paid them, and roundly swore that he was glad +he had no more fool-daughters to finish off in a fashionable seminary. + +I have a keen sense of the ridiculous, and it gets me in trouble all the +time. I don't mean any harm; but I can't help telling a good thing when +I hear it or see it myself. Now that _same_ Calburt Young can't +bear me; he hates me in good fashion because I made fun of his doleful +air, and said that he had the looks and the manners of a man who had, in +a desperate mood, shot down his sweetheart, concealed the fact, and was +suffering the pangs of deep remorse for the dreadful deed. He heard +about it and got angry! He _does_ look awful gloomy! He says I am +crude, _very_ crude, and put people on edge; and that I am so +good-natured, so good-humored all the time that it reduces less +fortunate people into a state of most desperate defiance--defiance +against my everlasting flow of animal spirits, unchecked by any thing. +He told all that to Sophia Gilder, and Sophia is my bosom-friend; so she +told me! Aunt Patsey has a great admiration for her mother, Mrs. John +Robert Gilder, but says that Sophia, poor girl, is a milk-sop--weak, +weak! and taps her shining forehead knowingly. Auntie has a most +alarming way of disposing of people! I know all about her +methods--gracious goodness! I ought by this time. + +About two or three months after I was finished off at the Seminary, Miss +Lena Searlwood gave a little affair in my honor. She called it a tea--it +really was more like a dinner! They do entertain _so_ well! I was +taken home afterward by that Calburt Young--a great privilege I suppose! +He was in a bad humor anyhow; had not seen enough of Miss Lena! He let +me do all of the talking, never once suggesting a new topic, and +listened with an air, not of attention, but enforced toleration. It made +me furious! Two or three times he said "Yes?" which was really worse +than nothing! Finally, when near home, he turned to me and in a tired, +indifferent tone, said: "Beg pardon, Miss Wing; you are _just out_, +I believe! What did you study while at school?" It was a fling--I knew +it--so I answered, "I studied how to be rude to arrogant, patronizing +people who are forever asking impudent questions with a desire to give +pain, sir!" He placed my night-key in the door deliberately, calmly; +pushed open the door, lifted his hat, turned on his heel, without even +closing one half of the storm-doors, like other men always do, and said: +"Miss Wing, you have been well taught! You were, indeed, a very apt +scholar! I congratulate you! I have the honor to bid you good-night!" I +could have picked a dozen pale-pink roses to pieces just then, but not +leaf by leaf; I could have torn up a whole rose-tree by the roots! They +say Mr. Young is so smart, wonderful deep, and all that; but he is just +a mean, rude man, and I won't ever have any thing more to do with him; +and when I say I won't, _I won't_! + +How some people do ruffle me into a fever-heat of dislike and ardent +opposition. Of course I know that it is all wrong, yet after all there +is a certain kind of satisfaction. Now, for instance, _that_ Mrs. +Babbington Brooks, with her smooth, oily tongue, abominable phrases, +"Yes, my sweet loves," and her "O! my dear doves," sets me fairly wild. +She is such a vulgar, low-born person! I always feel tempted to fly +right at her and tear off her load of tawdry, costly finery, exhaling a +strong, close odor of greenbacks. How people have taken them up! all on +account of their money. They are invited every where; and only last +season people were turning up their noses and asking, "Who, pray, are +the Brookses?" Thanks to a cook from somewhere, and a butler from +somewhere else, their entertainments are said to be really delightful, +and their dinners perfection itself. They are not yet quite sure of +their position! They are afraid it will not be permanent! But they will +succeed. I know they will, because I _feel it_! To me there is +always something very fascinating about these desperate social +strugglers--especially when they are successful. Aunt Patsey, too, she +says they will succeed, and Aunt Patsey knows! But she don't know every +thing, for Mrs. John Robert Gilder has fooled her. But I am not +surprised; she would have fooled me, also, if I was not so intimate with +Sophia, who tells me _every thing_--the only person who ever did; +and there is just nothing I would not do for her. I know Sophia Gilder's +_other secret!_ She is caring a great deal too much for a man who +don't take overmuch interest in her. But the man don't even know that +she cares any thing for him, and I don't believe he will ever +know--unless I tell him myself! Now I call that real tragedy; just as +good as any you ever see on the stage, or read about in books. I would +love to tell him; but that is _one thing_ I have never told, and I +never will, either! As they say in novels, it will go down to my grave +with me. I am so anxious about Sophia, I am afraid it may take her +there. But I have my doubts, she is right healthy-looking yet. Aunt +Patsey says that love hurts a powerful lot, but don't often kill out and +out. Robert Fairfield is the man. Ma says she never could understand why +he don't pay me devoted attention. His father was one of her old beaus. +She was engaged to him; Aunt Patsey broke it off--she was scheming for +pa--she could break off any thing, that ancient female! Mr. Fairfield is +polite to me, and that is about all. When I was a school-girl I used to +dream about him! In my dreams he was always dressed like a knight, and +rode a milk-white steed, waved his hand toward me, and then I always +waked up. It was so provoking. I never could get any further into the +dream. I know I would like him if I knew him real well. He is quiet, but +not one bit stupid. He talks little, but oh, he is such an attentive +listener! He don't come after me, so I can't run after him. For I don't +know, and I don't want to know any thing about _catching_ men--as +if they were wild animals, fish, or something. Aunt Patsey calls it +_diplomacy_! Diplomacy? Fiddle-sticks! It is down right deception +of the very worst kind. I know that I talk too much, tell a great many +things that ought to be left unsaid, but I do not tell lies--there is no +other name for them--and knowingly, with malice aforethought, make an +injury or do a wrong to any body. + +But, my, my! I am always in trouble. Tom, my little brother, ran into +the room just now, nearly out of breath, and made a little speech which +almost gave me a nervous chill: "Oh, sister Alice! Won't you catch it, +though? Aunt Patsey is just in from her meeting of the 'Cruelty to +Animals' Association. She is in a dreadful way! She is just talking ma +black and blue! She is giving you 'Hail Columbia!' She met Mrs. +Par-dell, the manicure, the woman who ma says goes around fixing finger +nails for fifty cents, and gives you five dollars' worth of gossip, +sometimes scandal--to those who like it. She told Aunt Patsey a long +tale about what you had certainly said: that Aunt Patsey was seven years +older than she acknowledged; had been dyeing her hair for years; did not +have a real tooth of her own in her head, and was a regular old tyrant +here at home, and that all of us were afraid as death of even her thin, +old shadow. Oh, but won't you catch it, though! Sis, you had better +skip, and pretty quick, too! I think she's coming up-stairs now!" + +It is awful, but I suppose I must have been telling just such a tale, +but to whom I can not, for the life of me, think. See now, all this +comes of telling the _family secrets_. That Mrs. Par-dell is a +dangerous woman! I refused flatly to have her make bird-claws out of +my finger-nails. This is her revenge! I am powerless! But it was not a +slander, it was all the truth; just as true as gospel. That's the reason +she is in such a rage. But she is coming; this house won't hold us both +just now, so I am off _via_ back stairs--to dine with my dear +Sophia Gilder, if I don't find that fraud, Mrs. Babbington Brooks, there +ahead of me. She and Mrs. John Robert G. are inseparable. The old dragon +draws near--I am gone, leaving behind a smile and a kiss for my ancient +female relative. Ah, Aunt Patsey, not _good form_, you know, to get +angry with people--even with your niece, + +[Illustration: +Miss Alice Wing, +(of the Inner Sisterhood.)] + + + + + * * * * * + + + IV + + The Cool Quiet Flirtatious Underglow + Of a Green Opal. + + + * * * * * + + + + +FLIRTING FOR REVENUE ONLY + + +I am a Private Corporation. + +My capital stock is a pretty face, a clear head, and pleasant manners. + +I was incorporated by the "social legislature" four winters ago. Mamma +was the active, successful lobbyist. My father was the silent, financial +lever absolutely necessary for the passage of the bill--opposition +small. + +The social Banking-House (our residence), on a fashionable avenue, had +been erected years before. A great mass of brick and mortar--stone-front +of course--not beautiful, but imposing. It was left unfurnished--a +portion of it--until I was ready to start in upon my social career. That +is quite a usual plan with people who are prospectively fashionable. +They do nothing with the drawing-room, library, and reception-room until +the daughter of the house is pronounced ready. The plastering, after a +dry of eighteen years, has had plenty of time to settle, and is not apt +to crack the costly papers or ruin the elaborate frescoes; and the +wood-work no longer in danger of warping or opening too much. + +My incorporation was an event. Business at once set in, and, with slight +fluctuations, has continued ever since brisk and healthful. The venture +has been a decided success. The constant, untiring skill of mamma, and +the valuable experience of each gay season has enabled me to frequently +increase the capital stock. For my face is more pretty than it was four +years ago, and my manners are more easy and pleasing. Mamma says manners +are every thing--and they are a great deal. I have grown to be somewhat +of a woman of the world. I have met so many new people--strangers from +all parts of the earth! I have been every where, and done so much. There +is nothing local about me! Some people say that I am all things to all +men; perhaps I am, for if I am not _broad_ I am not any thing. I +abhor narrow-mindedness! I am a trifle fraudulent in a harmless way, +which I am free to confess is more than a trifle fascinating to most of +the men I know. I smile, make eyes, sometimes sigh, and with many +devices coax the masculine fancy into life, and for my sake. Yet, +withal, I am said to be conscientious--very, in fact, and never +intentionally deceive. My reputation is better, alas! than I deserve. My +network is invisible but effectual; my weaving-power artless, but it is +the art concealing the artful. + +I am a Private Corporation! Therefore, I own all the stock. I constantly +make loans, but I never sell. The collateral--either the many shades of +love or the subtle changes of friendship--must be A No. 1 in every +respect. It is _collateral_, not indorsements which I require. +Paper not able to sustain itself is not considered worth much in my +Banking-House (social). + +It is my sweet expectation to retire from business whenever I chance to +find--or rather when I am found--by the right purchaser. I often long +for that time; I often picture to myself the undoubted delights of a +domestic life, and--but in the meantime I carry on a carefully perfected +system of + + =Flirting for Revenue Only.= + + +That is my long-chosen motto, from which I do not depart. A Private +Corporation must have protection! Self-preservation is the first +consideration, the first law. I am full of little formulas of both +manner and speech--they afford me ample protection. Make-talk is the +complete salvation of the female Banker (social). I never disdain the +use of a _promoter_, no matter how trivial it may be. _Promoters_ +help you to float heavy, stupid men, and save you from a complete wreck +on the shores of stupidity; and they act as most excellent elicitors +when applied to clever men--draw out the very best in them. I have +_promoters_ and _promoters_. I was asked not long since to give my +definition or receipt of this valuable article. This was the one which +I gave: Take some tangible object visible to the eye; for instance, a +banjo. Attract attention to it in some successful way. Talk first about +the banjo itself (the promoter), then if the man is clever he will, +unconsciously, be _led up_ from a discussion of that or other +musical instruments to a chat on music, ballads, operas, in fact the +very best he has to tell, the best he happens to know on that subject. +In this way we are able to rise above the trivial, worn topics of the +day--the usual make-talk of the multitude. I am always very happy in the +selection of my _promoters_. I may not be very original, but I am +quick to appropriate new ideas. I rapidly get them into the line of +march, ready for immediate use. + +To be a "social success" one must be something of an actress. Men +usually expect a vast amount of acting from young women, who will, +if they are discreet, certainly live up to that expectation. Men are +willing to be deceived, but it must not be a labeled deceit. I go down +the street and meet Mr. Seyhmoor; although I see him a block off, and +before he sees me, yet I affect great surprise when he greets me--a +little start is quite effective. The trifling little deception floods +my face with color, which comes almost at my command. It easily flashes +upon him that I am indeed surprised, and betrayed into an expression of +my delight. He is flattered. He joins me. A batch of envious women watch +my little triumph. _That_ is + + =Flirting for Revenue Only= + + +Then a walk down the street, a talk of mere wordy nothings, but of deep +and tender looks. In point of words, a make-talk affair; in point of +feeling, a vague shadowy suggestion of twenty delicious possibilities; +in point of fact a walk without any serious results. Calburt Young, a +fascinating man-about-town, a semi-Bohemian, joins me at a fashionable +ball. He takes me away from the dancing-room (and the other men), for +Bohemians never dance. He finds, as only he can, some quiet unoccupied +nook, a little out of the way, and yet a very proper place. An effective +spot environed by flowers, and palms broad and graceful, hung with +dimly-lighted, richly-colored lanterns--where you may see but not be +seen, where you may hear the gayety and yet by it not be disturbed. +Music from the ball-room reaches me, and a delicate oriental perfume +fills the air. Calburt Young, handsome, silent, with a look of earnest +appeal on his face, looks down into mine. Not the man, but his manner, +the situation, the music, the stealthy, intoxicating odor of perfume +and flowers, the sway of each tropical leaf, the distant gayety, all +surcharge my soul; gratify to the fullest extent my sensuous nature--my +love of the picturesque and the luxurious. The temptation is strong to +depart from my fixed principle. But I do not yield. I half extend my +ungloved hand, white and ringless, murmur in a low voice suggestive of +suppressed emotion, "You are very good to me! I was tired; I am glad +to have this rest--and with you, Mr. Young!" + +I am permeated with the deliciousness of the situation! I am conscious +of the magnetic something about me, drawing him near to me! I can almost +feel his hot, quick breath on my cheek where the color comes and goes. +He is within my power! But I do not love him. With an effort I banish +the tender manner. My voice, now a trifle cold, asserts itself in clear, +even tones: "Let us return; I am rested now. Mr. Seyhmoor claims me for +the next dance!" + +The spell is broken! Calburt Young does not understand! He is wise, but +I--I am a woman, and a woman of the world. But he does not reproach me. +How can he? I have not allowed him to say a word of love to me. I have +been environed not only with flowers, colored lights, and sweet music, +but also with the harmless platitudes of speech. I whirl away into the +dance with Henry Seyhmoor! I have been boldly flirting, + + =Flirting for Revenue Only=. + + +Sometimes I am not so successful in this avoidance of exactly what I +have skillfully brought out. Sometimes this policy leads to a proposal. +The tide grows too strong. The man breaks down the barrier, but what +good does it do? I have maintained a high protective tariff; there is +nothing tangible which he can produce against me; there is never any +thing which he can _say_ against me; and if I have been ordinarily +skillful and cautious there is absolutely nothing for him to +_think_, but "How good she has been to me; how delicately, +tenderly, she has tried to avoid giving me pain!" + +At the start, my first season out, it was a hard policy to follow, and I +would often spend a sleepless hour, after the man had said "good-night!" +But those foolish old days have gone, and with them the early freshness +of my youth, although the _appearance_ remains. I have seen so many +men promptly revive beneath the showers of another woman's glance +and of another woman's tender--perhaps like mine--unmeant words, mere +platitudes, platitudes effectual, intangible. They are not sufficient +proof in any court of conscience, law, or public opinion. They are the +glorious privileges of a woman who is a Private Corporation, + + =Flirting for Revenue Only=. + + +Robert Fairfield! There is a magic something in the very name itself. +And the man! ah, after all, old things are best. My heart never knew a +sensation--the quick, throbbing something which we call _love_--until +I met him, when hardly more than a school-girl. It was my first winter! +He was young, attractive, somewhat wild, and quite the _fashion_ +that year, and in fact ever since. He is a dainty love-maker. He is +ready with a hundred delicate little attentions unknown to most men, +and highly gratifying to most women. But after all their influence is +limited--at least with me. His actual presence is necessary. Mamma +opposed the match--for we were engaged (never announced) at one time. +She always disliked him, and on that one subject has always been +unreasonable. But she has more influence over me than he has, or ever +could have. She can generally eradicate the dangerous effects of his +presence. This he resented--and rightly. I must renounce mother, home, +every thing, and come to him, or--I must cling to him and let all other +things go. He recognized no middle course; I constantly sought one. I +put him off; I made him many promised, and meant them all--when with +him. Finally he was forbidden the house, and now we barely more than +speak. He is somewhat devoted to a half dozen or more of our best young +women, and they are all more or less devoted to him. The world---our +little world--once said we would marry; but the world has decided that +it was, mistaken, and that we did not even love one another. And did we, +or not? In short, do we? + +There are times, moments of despondency, more frequent here of late, +when something within whispers, "You are waiting too long! You are, +indeed, far above par, but will it last?" + +The credit of my Banking-House (social) is apparently without limit. My +pretty face stands well the wear and tear of hard social work. My worst +female enemy dares not call me _passe_ in the slightest degree, +although I am a shade beyond the uncertain age of twenty-five. But +surely these strange premonitions must come as a warning. They surely +mean something. My womanly intuition--and it can be trusted--plainly +prompts me to give up this dangerous, ruinous policy of + + =Flirting for Revenue Only=. + + +I must abandon my little formulas of speech and manners. I must quit +making eyes. I must grant myself a pause in this social farce. I must +try to let myself love the man whom my _real honest self_ hath +chosen years ago. The man I drove from my door for the sake of +_general revenue_. The man against whom I closed my heart! But will +he come back again? Will his proud spirit brook an uncertainty? But, +after all, is it _well worth_, the while? Those are uncertain +questions--I dismiss them. There is no immediate danger. My humor +changes; I am no longer despondent. Away with Doubtful Uncertainty and +all of his stale retinue, tricked out in danger-signals--each a false +one. Sleep on, sweet Conscience, sleep on! To-night the +wedding-reception--given to a woman married for her money! Another +glorious opportunity for me! + +=A.B.= _I may be found any time between the hours of nine and +one, on the crowded stair, in a nook beneath, in the dancing-room, +or--somewhere about the flower-decked house in my accustomed capacity of +Private Corporation, skillfully, successfully_ + + =Flirting For Revenue Only.= + +[Illustration: +Miss Rose Clendennin, +(of the Inner Sisterhood.)] + + + + + * * * * * + + + V + + A Symphony in Pink + With Philistine Traces. + + + * * * * * + + + + +=Mother and Daughter= + + +We are not on good terms, mamma and I, She is hard, exacting, +unreasonable; she is proud, ambitious, worldly; she is deeply embittered +against me because I am not a social success, because I am not +brilliant, attractive. Her one thought, by day and by night, has been +the promotion of my interests--from her own selfish standpoint. I am +never consulted--always ignored, and my feelings trampled upon. My +slightest objection fills her with indignant surprise, and is met with a +prompt rebuke and a _dictum_, from which there is absolutely no +appeal. Always unwilling, yet always obedient--passively obedient. + +This is my third winter out and, to quote mamma, no prospects, no +prospects! Of course, I am nothing of a belle, nothing of a social +queen among women. This is a source of endless mortification to mamma. +But there is no reason why it should be so, because a belle in this +town is a lost art. Lost in the days of the brilliant Bettie V. and the +beautiful Alice B. Nowadays belleship is like statesmanship, the honors +are divided. We have plenty of real pretty women, but no startling +beauties. There is not a girl in my set but who is fully up to the +average in appearance, manners, mind. Competition may do well enough for +trade, but it does not produce any one reigning belle in social circles. +So I am not entirely to blame; the causes which work against me also +work against others. I go to the utmost limit, and sometimes beyond. +I do every thing which my better nature will license--often a great +deal besides. My opportunities are excellent. I am invited every where, +because we belong to a highly respectable and somewhat ancient family +(we have a beautiful family-tree, _arranged_ by mamma before I was +grown); and I go every where, even when I am forced to go with papa, +which, I am glad to say, is never more than twice in one season. + +Papa is really a dear, good man. He has not only the love but also +the pity of a devoted daughter, for he does have such a hard time +with mamma. While he understands perfectly all about making money, +and just lots of it, too, yet, _papa does not shine_ in mamma's +fashionable circle. He is a slave to her slightest whim--and she is +full of them. He is ready, and always, to do her most capricious +bidding. Yet they are not congenial; I am positive she never loved +him. He was, even when they married, counted among the rich men of +the community. And she--she was the youngest child in a large family, +with high notions and small income. But he is devoted to her! She +may not be lovable, but she is magnetic. She forces homage from all, +devotion from many. But she is an evil magnet; and she is conscious +of her power, which she wields in a high-handed and a most unscrupulous +manner. Unlike most women of the fashionable world, she makes a decided +point of poor papa's attendance. He must always go with her--and he +does. Often he comes to his home tired out, worn down to the very +quick--making money he calls it--and mamma, fresh and ready, eager for +the social battle which, like a war-horse, she scents from afar, drags +him out with her--somewhere--generally, when there is nothing more +exciting on hand, across the way to that bric-a-brac-shop of a house, +where the tawdry elegant, always weary Mrs. Babbington Brooks holds +forth in an ultra-æsthetic style peculiarly her own. There they spend +the entire evening in what mamma softly calls "a sweet communion of +congenial souls," which, being translated according to methods of the +earth, earthy, means simply a tiresome time over cards, the constant +sipping of a pale pink stuff which foams--dissipated looking, but +harmless. This they drink out of dainty little cups somewhat larger than +a thimble. "Fragile art gems," to quote Mrs. Babbington Brooks, "which I +was so wildly fortunate as to find in a curiously jolly shop somewhere +about Venice, the last time I was over on the other side. Ah! how I do +love Venice!" + +Now, there is a fair sample of that woman's talk; it is a mystery to me +how she keeps it up. Mamma says that she is "wierdly picturesque;" papa +says (but only to me) that she is "a regular downright fool." But they +are both wrong; she is a woman with a sufficient amount of brains to +know just how easily and successfully so-called sensible people may be +imposed upon; and how readily they can be made use of--stepping stones +to the accomplishment of selfish desires. But she does not fool mamma. +They both use one another to advantage. There is always between them a +tacit little arrangement. Mrs. Babbington Brooks never stops short of +a positive sensation. Her methods are bold, startling, successful. Her +husband, an insignificant looking man, invented something, an air-brake +for railway trains, an improvement on the Westinghouse air-brake, +"Brooks' Unbroken Circuit." This, after years of obscure struggling, +brought them into immediate wealth, but not at once into social notice. +Their first efforts in that direction, or rather, _her_ first +efforts, were complete failures. They nibbled about on the outer edge; +finally, it dawned upon her to play some decided role. She determined to +be an æsthete. She built a house accordingly; she dressed accordingly; +and she acted, but above all, she talked accordingly. Thanks to her +wandering brother, an ideal American adventurer, she obtained from +London, far ahead of the general importation, a complete outfit of +Lilies, Languors, Yearnings, Reachings-out, Poppies, Wasted Passions, +Platonics, Heart-throbs, and all the more lately approved instruments of +æsthetic torture. Her establishment was ready. She wanted recognition. +She waited for an opportune moment. It came. Oscar Wilde, the apostle +in chief of the æsthetic school, reached our shores. He brought a letter +of introduction "To the one æsthete in all America, Mrs. Babbington +Brooks." On his arrival he sent her this letter, and with it a note, +written in a full, round hand, stating that he would be at her service +after his lecture in her town, on the eighteenth of the coming February, +and, being it was she, his terms were only three hundred dollars; usual +price, five hundred. She wired an eager acceptance of his generous +offer, and at once set her household in readiness. She invited the +town--the fashionable, so-called desirable portion of it--and waited the +issue. Her gilded net was well spread; her bait irresistible. She easily +caught them all, large and small; her house was crowded; her effort a +recognized masterpiece. Mamma says she could have readily made +arrangements with Oscar Wilde for a season in London--a female æsthete, +and from the crude land of America! Now, she is actually quite the rage! +Her triumph is now complete; her following large, composed of a batch of +deluded fools, caught by the glamour and the blow of brazen trumpets, +with just the _tincture_ of an artistic principle. + +A large amount of money was spent on my educational training, both at +home and abroad. A young woman who can play a little, sing in fairly +good voice a few pretty songs, popular ballads, and paint an occasional +plaque, or even rise to the dignity of a panel, can surely make claim to +the free chromo distribution of that flattering term, "most highly +accomplished." + +I was systematically advertised--by mamma--for about four years prior +to my _debut_. Every body was made to know that I was "growing up" +rapidly, "coming on," but still young, "oh, very young, and cares +absolutely nothing about men." Fact: cared more then than I do now. +Young fellows--available matches--would be invited out "very informally +indeed," to dinner or to tea, "would just drop in, you know," each +occasion skillfully planned by mamma. She is an excellent +manager--always manages to have her own way. On each one of these +occasions it was so arranged that they would catch a glimpse of +me--supposed to be entirely accidental. I was made to pose for the +occasion over my books or fancy-work. I was "so studious!" or "so +skillful with my needle!"--running comment by mamma during the +_accidental_ glimpse of her darling daughter. These things are +always effective, for mamma is really an artistic woman. Her social +villainy fascinates me into a constant state of acquiescence. There is +an irresistible glamour, there is a touch of his Satanic majesty which +gains me, against my will, body and soul. She is a bad, dangerous woman. +What an awful idea to have of my own mother! but, fortunately, other +people don't know her as we do--papa and I. + +But after all the constant planning, the education with trimmings, the +high art dressing, the effective situations without number, in short, +the whole broad system of skillful social advertising, I am not the one +magnet-point; I am not the belle of the town. This has caused the breach +between us; and it grows wider every day. Mamma used to be unkind, but +now she is cruel. Those uncertain social honors can never be mine; +therefore a reconciliation is out of the question. Men come to the +house frequently and in fair numbers, but frequent and merely polite +attentions do not satisfy mamma. I have never had a real lover. Men seem +to like me well enough; they send me flowers, take me out, and do not +let me suffer at balls or parties for want of attention. But they do not +make love or ask me the all--important question, "Will you be my wife?" +This confession would surprise most people. My name is constantly +mentioned in a tender way with some one man of my acquaintance, but +there is never any thing beyond the mention. + +During the past winter mamma has been trying a new plan. She has +determined to marry me off, having proved to be such worthless material +for the make up of a reigning belle. She has made earnest, successful +effort to induce a batch of clever young lawyers into a frequent and +regular attendance at the house, under pretext of a quasi-ideal Literary +Association. A wise bait, which always ensnares the eager-nibbling +lawyer. It _sounds well_ to have people say that he is a gifted +young lawyer and a member of a most delightful and highly select +literary association--and the average young lawyer acknowledges a +fondness--inexpensive, of course--for all things which _sound well_; +the legal mind bows down before the mighty shrine of "Euphony." + +Any thing can be readily organized in this town, but to keep it going is +a different matter and a desperate hard thing to do after the novelty +wears off. But mamma seldom allows any of her organizations to die a +natural death. Her present venture, of a literary nature, is thriving; +it has grown to be the idle fashion of the social hour. Mamma alternates +with her always coadjutor, Mrs. Babbington Brooks, in entertaining the +motley, and somewhat cultured crowd. Mamma, First Director and Chief +Manager; Mrs. Babbington Brooks, Second Director and Most Worthy +Assistant. This "Culture-Seeking Club" (its name) has been organized, +mamma says, on my account. It is her last effort in my behalf. She has +always opposed the idea of my forming an alliance with a poor, petty +young lawyer; but she has grown desperate, and organized this club in +order that I might, or rather she, angle for some rising young barrister +with brains, and a promise of something better than the usual +fulfillment--poverty. It is a positive tragedy, this being calculatingly +thrown at the head of a so-called desirable young man! + +Nominally I am a member of the "Culture-Seeking Club," but actually +and at heart I am a Philistine out and out. This pernicious high-art +and culture-seeking fever has never caught my practical soul in its +relentless grasp. I love not the ways of the social æsthete. Gleams +and shadows do not thrill me; sunflowers and daisies do not gratify my +hungry soul--or self. Mamma says I am not sufficiently clever to tempt +the brainy monster, _i.e._, Culture Fiend. She has taken me in +hand; I am to play a role also. She has a strange power over me which I +am unable to withstand. It is the fatal power which a strong mind gets +over the more weak and readily yielding mind incapable of a successful +resistance. She is a woman with a bad heart and a clear head. I am +irresolute, full of most excellent intentions, and in effect as bad as +she without the redeeming features of extraordinary cleverness. I am to +play the role of a young maiden with an object in life. I am to be full +of a new desire to grapple with the weighty problems of the moment. I am +to be carefully coached for each club meeting; I am to be veneered with +a thin skin of glittering knowledge. I am, indeed, bewildered, startled. +I am made to read all of the book notices worth the reading. I am made +to pore over a half dozen reviews which people in this town know +absolutely nothing about--although they do call mamma the "Pioneer +introducer of good Periodicals." I am superficial, but she is not. She +reads each good book itself, not the criticism only. She reads it +carefully, thoroughly, as few other people ever do. Then she gives me a +special line of thought to follow, and I am made to go through a little +combination of what I have read and of that which she has told me in her +direct, compact manner. Thus does she enable me to produce a written +paper which never fails to start the "Culture-Seeking Club" into a +little flutter of supposed intellectual excitement. For a moment, at +least, I am forgotten, or, if remembered at all, they say to one another +as they sip that everlasting pale pink foam out of the "dainty art gems +from Venice, you know:" "Ah, Sophia Gilder is her more clever mamma's +own daughter; but, alas! she will never be such a woman as her +mother--the gifted Mrs. John Robert Gilder, the life and soul of our +Culture-Seeking Club!" And I piously hope to heaven that I may be saved +from such a fate, and never be the woman that I know mamma to be! + +My last effort was said to be a wild, jagged thing--a reaching out, a +groping after. It was called "Souls Antagonistic: A Symphony." I wore an +especial costume--"suited to the subject," said mamma. "A sweet poem of +a gown," echoed Mrs. Babbington Brooks. When I finished my task, for it +was a task, and imposed by a hard task-master, Mrs. Brooks glided, like +the serpent she is, over to my seat and looked down with a false longing +into my flushed face. Then in a low, somewhat musical voice, full of a +false tenderness and a borrowed pathos, "May I, sweet young girl, touch +with mine the precious lips which to-night have made exceeding glad my +sad, sad soul with those wise and honeyed words?" She kissed me. I +fairly trembled with an intense loathing. That oily-tongued creature +hates me with a deadly hatred. And she fears me, for she knows that I +have found her out and know her to be what she is, a most _successful +fashionable fraud_. But it is folly to run counter to the social +current. It is best to hold my peace. It is hard to do, but it can be, +and it must be done. I was nervous--rebellious. I quickly fled away from +that false woman and her loathsome caress. I sought rest and quiet in a +distant cushioned corner of the deserted hallway. I was angry--too angry +for tears. I buried my throbbing head in my hands and tried to forget my +miserable existence; it was such a failure. It was so unlike that which +I wished it to be, and yet I did not have the will-power to make it so. +I was in one of my morbid moods. Resolutions I knew to be useless. On +the morrow they would be broken. It was always, and I fear ever will be +"Mother and Daughter;" never "Daughter and Mother." She always takes the +lead, and I, always weak enough to follow. Was there no one to whom I +could turn? No one to yield me a few kindly words to strengthen me for +that constant, useless warfare against, yes, against my own mother? + +As if in answer to my silent call, a footstep! My hands dropped into my +lap. A man stood near. I did not look up; I knew who he was. We need +hear but once the footfall of certain people and always after know +instantly if they are near. A voice: "Miss Gilder, do I intrude?" + +Robert Fairfield is not a man of many words. He stood by me in an +attitude of _sympathetic silence_. He made to me an unspoken +appeal. In my heart there was a grateful answer. A sad, smileless face +was uplifted, and then my lips also gave answer. It was a brief story. +It was my daily life of home oppression. But it was not briefly told. It +ought not have been told at all; but I am human, so human. The time had +reached me when somebody _must know_, and the time had brought with +it into my sorrowful presence this same Robert Fairfield. I had barely +known him. An accidental introduction, a few dances at a ball, and +once--just once--a brief but serious talk at a summer-night concert. I +was nothing to him; he was every thing to me; I loved him, I love him. +But custom, and rightly, too, keeps a woman silent. He may know the +story of my miserable home life, but he does not know--and he must never +know--of the magnetic power which drew me toward him, made me tell my +story, and left me with a regret and a tenderness which has closed my +heart to any other who may chance to come. + +[Illustration: +Miss Sophia Gilder, +(of the Inner Sisterhood.)] + + + + + * * * * * + + + VI + + A Cold Gray Study. + + + * * * * * + + + + +A CASE OF COMPOUND FRACTURE. + + +Family Position, Wealth, and Personal Beauty are potent factors in the +mysterious make-up of a social success, but they are not omnipotent. +A woman may have this desirable trinity, and yet be as nothing in the +social world. In fact, she may be without one, two, or all three, and +yet achieve unaccountable success in a social way. + +My first winter out was a flat failure. I did not lack wealth and family +position, but I was awkward and not beautiful; in short, ugly. But my +failure was not due to this lack of beauty, for other women far more +ugly than I outshone me in every way. _I did not know myself_. +There is the key to many a mystery. I tried to be like other women +and--failed. I had a little individuality of my own, but for a time did +not know it. + +During that formative period I had one love-affair; at least, I did the +loving and Gerome Meadows did the "affair," for with him it was nothing +more. He was a man just a trifle above the average in looks and manners, +intellect--every thing. He was always attractive and agreeable. He was +always making a graceful effort to please, and He was--with me--always +successful. He was four and twenty, yet he was a genuine boy. He was +full of a boy's love and full of a boy's charming susceptibility. He was +responsive to the different natures of many women. He was peculiarly a +loveable man. He had diligently, conscientiously courted a goodly number +of these different natured women; and they all had, at some one time, a +tender leaning toward, without a positive love for, this Gerome Meadows. +I am one of the number. Twice has he courted me, and twice have I +refused him. First, because _he_ did not love me; second, because +_I_ did not love him. + +It was during that formative period when first he came, _sent by his +mother_. She was a wise woman, who selected mates for her always +obedient children. It was an honor to be selected--so she thought. A +sacrifice--so considered by the unselected. + +Gerome had for me somewhat of a circumstantial love. We had always known +one another. We had been constantly thrown together. It would have been +a pre-eminently proper arrangement. It would have been the alliance of +the two influential and wealthy families. Therefore, his mother wished +it and ordered it to be so. But an unexpected disappointment awaited her +honorable ladyship. It had not occurred to her that a woman could be so +foolish, so neglectful of her own interests and of her own happiness, +as to refuse in marriage the hand of her precious son. My evident +hesitation--for at heart I loved him--surprised and somewhat alarmed +her. I was invited to dine with the family. I was treated as a +prospective member. With the soup, the fish, and the heavy meats, they +dealt out the virtues of their Gerome, seriously and earnestly. With the +sweetmeats and the coffee they smilingly touched upon his lightest and +most pardonable faults. My heart trembled for its safety. It was a well +planned effective process. That night he told me of his love with the +air of a man who fully expects a warm response and affirmative answer. +Both were bravely denied him. I told him that he was mistaken; I told +him he did not, and never would, have for me the grand passion of his +life. He said--what else could he say?--"You are wrong; you deeply wrong +me. You are plunging my young life, hitherto so full of hope, down into +a depth of bitterness and regret from which it may never rise again!" +This was said in a tragic, somewhat stilted, but impressive manner. I +was touched; it was my first experience; it was the first time that I +had ever heard a man talk about his broken, blasted hopes and his empty, +ruined life. But it is all a very old story now. I know just how much to +believe--in truth, precious little. Nothing dulls the edge of a woman's +sensibilities more quickly than frequent proposals. His rejection was a +relief to Gerome; he was tired of making love to women especially +selected by his mother; he did not fancy the process. Thus far he had +always been unsuccessful. I had told him no--but, womanlike, I did not +mean it; I did not want him to go out of my life. In a vague way I was +conscious of a desire to win his love, but it was during my social +formative period when every thing was vague. I was unconscious of my +power, yet I did not know how to accomplish my end. So Gerome left me. I +was unable to keep him. But, somehow, I did not consider it a finality; +it was simply an awkward pause. I hoped for his return and a renewal of +his protestations. I had heard women say that if a man really cared for +a woman he would easily brook the first refusal and speedily return. So +I thought, but I was mistaken; he did not return. + +Two moons had not waxed and waned before he was having what now I am +sure must have been the one passionate love of his life. This was +unexpected; a blow in the dark to my pride, and, alas! I fear, also, to +my heart. It was the death-knell to my better nature. It gave direction +to the formation of my social life. From that moment I am conscious of +a change, and for the worse, in my hitherto attractive nature. It was +attractive on account of its sweetness and its purity. It was a nature +which, until then, had known nothing of the hot, passionate love of the +world and of all things worldly. The formative period was gone, and with +it most that was good. + +It was hard to have a man court me, not exactly for my money, but +because I chanced to be the nearest fruit in reach and because his +crafty mother thought it would be an excellent arrangement! Especially +hard, because in spite of myself I had for him a very tender feeling. +My sudden loss and quick appropriation by another created within me an +unjust resentment; my resentment was silent and unnoticed, but it filled +me with a desire for revenge. This was the evil which crept into my +life; this was the element which warped my better nature, made me +grasping, worldly, hard to please. This sudden desertion placed me in +a false position. People said that Gerome had never loved me--simply +trifling. The friends of that _other woman_, a great brown-eyed +beauty with the subtle charm and fatal fascination of a devil most +lovely, made it appear that of course Gerome Meadows had never loved +me--why should he? He cowardly held his peace and let them prattle; he +was kneeling low before the shrine of his own selection; he was in open +rebellion against his irate mother, who did not approve of this +brown-eyed beauty. + +I was left alone and let alone. But fate was not altogether against +me. Death did me a friendly service. He called to her last resting-place +an ancient dame who had severely played the role of grandmother and +mother-in-law in our large establishment--unloved, tyrannical, +unregretted. But custom bade us mourn. Then was my opportunity. Our +doors were closed, but I was not idle--_I studied myself_, and, +retrospectively, all of my friends. After several months of hard +training and much serious thought I found myself ready. I had +established my little theories about life, and their intricate relations +to myself, and cast about carefully for something upon which I might +with safety and good results practice upon. Most of my friends were +tame, uninteresting, and none of them just then my lovers. I resorted to +many of the little airs and tricks of social trade. I soon found myself +doing quite a brisk little business in a quiet way; quite quiet, for +I still wore light mourning and, of course, was not going out; we all +thought it best to pay the highest possible respect to the late but +unlamented grandmother. I soon gained the reputation--which I bravely +sustained--of being far above the idle, cruel dealer in human hearts; I +was said to be full of old-fashioned coquetry, but not even flirtatious; +that I was gracious, had pleasing manners, but was the very soul of +sincerity, and would never be guilty of leading men on and on. I was +frequently contrasted with that devilish brown-eyed beauty--a recognized +flirt, ready to sacrifice any man on her crowded altar. A man once said +to me of her: + + "Such kings of shreds have wooed and won her, + Such crafty knaves her laurel owned, + It has become almost an honor + Not to be crowned." + + +"Hush! hush! she is my friend," I said, for I knew him to be one of +her rejected lovers. In a month I had gently told him nay. But he was +innocent, he did not know that I had played my cards for him. He thought +me cold, but he thought me kind. He advertised me in desirable places +and with most desirable people. I captivated several other desirable +men. It is so easy for a woman to fool a man. But I was eager to try +my powers on better metal--some man of the world. A victory in such a +quarter would fully establish me, and it would bring the very best men +to my side, for they, like sheep, readily follow the well-known leader. +And perhaps--Gerome might return. + +One winter's night late, after I had gone to my room, two men called. +Ordinarily I should have excused myself, but something--we call it fate, +I believe--prompted me to see them. One was an old friend--a friend of +the family. The other a thorough man of the world, and--I knew it +intuitively--my desired victim. He was an idle, indifferent, Social +Drifter. He was an artist by profession; his inclination--and his +leisure--made him more of a _diletante_ than any thing else. He was +more notorious than famous. He had done nothing to give himself fame, +but he had done many odd things which gave him notoriety. I have always +had a secret but deep-rooted love of notoriety; it makes my blood tingle +with a most delicious sensation. I knew that he could give me a great +deal of _quiet notoriety_ which was the one thing needed to make me +a success--notice, notice, constant notice! The surgeon may be ever so +skillful and yet if his skill be not known his instruments, rusted with +disuse, will cling to their unopened cases and his hand will forget its +cunning. So is it with the flirtatious maiden; she must hang forth a +sign which may be read, and quickly, even by those who run. + +My artist lover was not the ideal slender, pale-faced youth; he was not +beautiful, he was not good looking. But perhaps I should have loved him +if he had been the one, and tolerated him longer if he had been the +other. He was aggressive; he was open, direct always; he was not blunt, +yet he was free from the all-prevalent use of the _preliminary_. +He loved me! And he very soon told me as much and more. He made no +concealment of the fact to me, or indeed to others. He loved me, was +proud of it, and glad to have all know of it. Of course this was just +what I wanted, for he was not a susceptible man. He had not been in love +for years. His declarations meant something, and people knew it. Thus +was I brought into notice. "Who, pray, is this Mary Lee Manley?" they +began to ask. "Is she the same scrawny, ugly girl who was such a flat +failure in society two years ago?" "What has she done to herself? She +is certainly not a beauty but she has improved, just how we are unable +to say." + +The men began to find me, hunted me up, and were unable to realize that +I was that self same individual whom they had so diligently avoided +her first season out. All the while my affair went on, systematically +artistic, with that Social Drifter. No man will ever love me again +as I was loved by that man. I wantonly played with his openly avowed +affections. I was deliberate, artistic. I was cold. I led him on +blindly. I calculated every move with mathematical accuracy. I left +nothing undone. I skillfully covered my tracks. I always told him sadly, +gently, that I did not love him, and that I never could. Yet I told him +in such a manner that, almost breathless with a new hope, he refused to +believe me, refused to listen. He was always considerate and I hated him +for his consideration. He was always thoughtful, unselfish, and alas, +always loving. Finally, after I had successfully played him for all +that he was worth--which was a great deal to me--I told him to go. I +dismissed him with scorn and without reason. Of course there had been no +love in my heart for this man, but his delicate attentions were always +intensely flattering. And once, just once, I might have yielded, but +my family, my own judgment, every thing, was against the man, and to +the end he continued to be simply a trial for my untried and newly +discovered powers. And then, perhaps the more potent reason of all, +Gerome Meadows gave uneasy indications of a desire to return. I, and +immediately, made arrangements for the full gratification of his desire. +Now was my chance. Revenge, when delayed, is all the sweeter for the +delay. The world must know of my power, and through Gerome Meadows! I +had waited long and patiently, but I had not wasted my time. I had gone +through a severe social training, and with the best results. I was an +accomplished flirt, but I was not trammeled by the always dangerous +reputation--it was not known. It was simply a rumor about town that I +might be somewhat of a trifler, but it had not been affirmed, and few +believed the idle, unauthorized rumor; it had not even reached the ears +of Gerome Meadows. He had hotly quarreled with his devilish, brown-eyed +beauty. She had dismissed him after a highly tragic scene. The details +were highly sensational--as told by her devoted partizans, and warmly +denied by his and his outraged family (principally irate mother). They +sound like the fragments of a romance written by Bulwer, and with a +liberal touch of Lucile. It was the talk of the town, and many things +were said, and a few were done. I was silent and hopeful. My triumph was +near! She had done with him, and forever. He did not cut his handsome +throat! He did not do any of the thrilling but uncomfortable things done +by the usual rejected lover in the average novel--_but he came back +to me!_ Once more Gerome Meadows was my recognized lover, and the +people--the fickle people--began to whisper it about (greatly to my +satisfaction), that perhaps this very uncertain Mr. Meadows had always +loved me from the time his sister Kate and myself were school-girls +together. And furthermore, he had for a while yielded to the manifold +fascinations of that devilish brown-eyed beauty. In fact, he himself +told me a goodly number of just such little speeches; discoursed on the +difference between real love and mere fascination. He told me that I was +the only woman he ever could really love, and that he had for me a pure +and warm affection. Ah! how sweet were those declarations to my ear. But +not to my heart--it was closed against him. + +I was not the woman he had known and halfway loved before--for I had +eagerly tasted deep and long of the Egyptian flesh-pots, and I refused +any other kind of social sustenance. I allowed him to believe that his +tardy return had routed all rivals from the field. I forced him to fancy +me to be so different from _that other woman_. I was, in truth, a +cool, quiet reaction. I coaxed him into believing me to be full of a +gentle, womanly purity. I made him blind to the fact that I was a +worldly woman, conscious of and ready to unhesitatingly use my +worldliness. I measured my powers aright--I could at my own sweet will +allow him, force him, coax him, make him _do any thing_. I cunningly +wove a web in and around the heart of Gerome Meadows--his rejected, torn +and dejected heart. I gently soothed him into not quite a forgetfulness, +yet a strong and healthful calm. He was grateful. Reactions are always +dangerous; he wondered why he had not known me before as he knew me +then. And while he wondered I charmed him into a new love fever. It was +almost a touch of real passion. It was a skillful drawing together of +the scattered ligaments of that other and violently broken love. I had +labored hard, and not altogether in vain. He was mine for the taking. +Would I take him? + +We stood together late one afternoon in a rich oriel window which +overhung the street. We were silent. The rustle of the light summer +drapery filled the air with a faint but melodiously tender undertone. +We looked out of the broad open window down the street. It was near the +close of a superb summer's day. I was in a mood to yield. My old nature +seemed to rise out of its former self. It was the one golden opportunity +for the man by my side. The old tender leaning toward him came back +again, stronger, more subtle than ever before. It was--for the +while--love, or something very like unto love. My nature, my soul was at +its utmost flow, but no one touched the flood-gates. Gerome was passive, +silent. One word, a hand-touch, and I would have loved him and bound +myself to him for weal or woe! Little things are every thing in a +woman's life. Robert Fairfield passed by beneath the window; he briefly +paused, politely looked up, lifted his hat, _smiled_, and--innocent +of what he had done--went on his way. He had simply done what was the +proper and usual thing, but his conventional smile had come into my life +at a strangely opportune moment--or, was it opportune? My heart had been +laid bare, the flood-gates had been touched, and they had slowly opened +beneath the magic influence of a _smile_. Gerome Meadows had been +silent. He had lost his one golden opportunity. I told him so, and sent +him away. I fired upon him a volley of ridicule and contempt; my revenge +was complete. He was angry, surprised, disappointed. The old wounds were +torn open afresh; but he was not easily undone. He immediately made +peace with his irate mother. He placed himself in her charge. He +promised to try again, but under her direction and according to her +selection. In a few days more he goes to the altar with this new and +latest love. But, ah! Gerome, your charming, susceptible self never +loved but once! Where is that devilish brown-eyed beauty? It is well +that she is silent! One word from her and--but, go marry. And pray, take +with you my conventional wishes for your peace and happiness. On your +wedding day I will write you a dainty card and send you a trifle. + +What shall it be? What would be, under the "existing circumstances," the +most appropriate thing? Perhaps a little Cupid, somewhat weather-beaten +and with an empty quiver might do, or, best of all, _a lock of +golden-brown hair_ stolen from the rich, heavy tresses of that +devilish brown-eyed beauty. What say you? But _au revoir_, Gerome +Meadows. + +There is to be a reception--a most elegant affair--the night of the +wedding. It is to be given by that now well-satisfied lady, Mrs. +Gillespie Meadows, the mother of my dear, dear Gerome. My escort: Robert +Fairfield. The beginning of another end! What will it be? + +[Illustration: +Miss Mary Lee Manley, +(of The Inner Sisterhood.)] + + + + + * * * * * + + + VII + + + An Olive Outline + In Shades and Shadows + Of a Clever Social Life. + + + * * * * * + + + + +Platitudes and Pleasures. + + +My life is different from the usual social existence of the average +society girl. + +I have never followed the mirage of a definite ideal. + +I have never been a straggler for social honors--they have been mine +without the struggling. I was born to a position. It is mine by right +of inheritance. There is no strong odor of lately acquired greenbacks +about our old and very respectable establishment. We live on a quiet, +unfashionable street; we are somewhat apart from the world, and yet we +are frequently sought--for we never seek. My grandfather was a man of +excellent parts and much power in his native State. He was a well-known, +important factor in the home of his adoption. His wife was celebrated +for her ready wit and radiant beauty in the days when Madison was +President. + +My father is a great man. It is not a greatness hedged in by a local +limit; he is known far and wide. His scientific researches have made him +famous and his name familiar and beloved on foreign shores. Nor is he a +prophet without honor even in his own country. + +My mother is a rare woman. She is peculiarly a womanly woman. She +constantly gives her best thought, her best effort, to the members of +her family, always forgetting self; and she is full of the tenderest +consideration toward other people. She never speaks ill of her neighbor; +she is always true. She is always ready to discharge her duty--and more. +She is tender, gentle, firm; there is not a flower which blooms more +full, better rounded out, more sweet, better to look upon, or in any way +more complete, more perfect than she. + +I may not be great or entirely good myself, but I constantly breathe an +atmosphere exhilarating and pure--made so by the presence of a great man +and a good woman. + +Our house is the tacitly recognized head-quarters for all kinds and +conditions of clever people, and some not so clever, but who--in their +way--are just as interesting: + + Social Exquisites. + Social Drifters. + Briefless Barristers. + Men Who Have Risen. + Men Unsuccessful. + Sympathy Seekers. + Sympathy Finders. + Newspaper Reporters. + Newspaper Poets. + Authors Private. + Authors Public. + People Of The Army. + People Of The Navy. + Bohemians, Ragged As To Their Cuffs, Unkempt + As To Their Raiment. + All Classes, Shades And Conditions Of Life. + In Short, A Strange Kaleidoscopic Circle. + + +To be a gentleman above question is the _badge of admission_. To be +clever is the _badge of promotion_. I am the center of this +intensely interesting circle. I am the focus, the magnet around which +they all revolve. The bulk of the social burden rests on me. The minute +but highly important details are carefully watched and skillfully +righted by the good mother. I am the General Entertainer, but she is the +ameliorator of those little roughnesses, those little sharp corners +which cling even to unconventional people. Her clear, well-balanced +mind, her gentle, yet quietly positive temperament, peculiarly fit her +for this necessary but frequently neglected social work. + +I am young, beautiful, untrammeled; I am full of an unlimited ambition; +I am not content with the small things of life; I will have none of +those precious morsels--mere fragments--which tempt and readily please +my sweet sisters in Vanity Fair. Young, yet I am far enough beyond +twenty to have ideas of my own. Beautiful, yet I am free from that +all-conscious air which pervades the average beauty. Untrammeled, +because men do not touch me--have not the power to rouse within me one +tender feeling. I am interested always, but I am never susceptible. +Women depend too much on their intuitions; they know so little about +human nature, and less about man-nature. An intuition is oftentimes a +safeguard to woman but more frequently a danger, because it creates +within her too much of a servile dependence upon mere impulses and first +impressions. My own intuitions are strong, but I want my knowledge to be +stronger. I want to know all there is to know about men, women, and +things. Women are usually like open books to me, easily read while +passing on to matters more interesting--men. + +A man once asked me what special impression or effect I should like to +have on a man of the world who had been every where, done every thing, +seen every thing, knew every thing (or at least thought so)--in fine, +a man with the edge of every desire dulled, the glow of every passion +cooled. My answer was simply this: I should try to give him what I +constantly and without much effort gave most men--_A new sensation_. +After all it is not such a hard thing to do. Blasé men are my especial +prey; they can always be reached; their vulnerable points are many, but +generally well concealed. + +I have lost my early enthusiasms, but my enthusiastic _manner_ +still remains. A genuine, cynical touch has, here of late, fallen into +my life. It is not an affectation. I am all the better for that touch; +it makes me more of a power among my subjects. For they are in reality +my subjects. In the main they are loyal. They are ready to fight for me +and my cause--if I had one. + +I have divided my subjects--and other men--into: + + I. Platitudes, + II. Pleasures. + + +Platitudes are men who lead an honest, stupid existence. They are +contented with their lot--because ignorant of any other. They are +resentful of all innovations--because they are narrow-minded and full +of deep ruts; they are guiltless of one clever thought; they sometimes +stumble into somewhat of a clever action, but humbly deprecate the move, +unconscious of having done a clever thing. Such men used to float about +me in shoals of delicious stupidity. I was such a new creature! I was so +different from the women they had met and always known. They were the +foolish moths, I the candle-flame. They dashed blindly into danger; they +fluttered about in ungraceful, ungracious misery. Finally, they would +fly out and go on their little commonplace ways full of scars and petty +burns, but not altogether marred--all the better for their uncomfortable +but harmless burning. But nowadays it is quality not numbers which I +desire, so they let me alone and are indeed astonished, bewildered, to +find that I can go on, quite successfully too, and _without them_. +Poor little fools; they are not an absolute necessity to any one--hardly +to themselves. + +A Platitude is a selfish creature, and never very grateful unless he +expects a continuance of past favors. With him a cessation of favors +means a cessation of gratitude. A limited number of the Platitude class +still linger about me--principally on account of a long-contracted +habit. They are content with whatever they get; they are entirely +harmless, always useful in some way, and occasionally quite interesting. + + * * * * * + +A Pleasure is the direct opposite of a Platitude. + +He is a clever man--clever in some one particular way. He is generally +a man with many brilliant theories brilliantly brought forth. He is +ready to entertain any proposition. He is ready to try any new field of +human action. He is sometimes sympathetic, more frequently antagonistic. +But my so-called _Pleasures_ may not be forced under any one head +which will accurately describe them as a class. Indeed, each one is a +class within himself; that is my reason for using so broad a term as +Pleasures: they are, in fact, Pleasures to me. They are really necessary +to my happiness--not individually, but as an entirety. + +Most of these men have been at some one time my lovers--at least after +a fashion. Some of them are foolishly constant. They are not foolish on +account of their constancy--a most commendable trait--but because of +their inability to know just when to make a display of their devotion. +The general run of lovers--at least mine--are distressingly inopportune. +This a woman, in spite of herself, deeply resents; it is so unpardonably +stupid of a sensible man not to know just when to make known his tender +passion. Lovers seldom study the women they love. They labor hard and +plow straight on, in spite of any timid opposition from the other +quarter; they are heedless of the future; they are eager to gain the +prize, and often stride far beyond--overstep the mark, which sometimes +is but a mere shadow line. + +Most women fail to understand why they are unable to retain their +rejected lovers. To me the explanation is plain. The average woman has +nothing to give her lover, when he asks the all-important question, but +a few tender, meaningless words to environ her _yes_ or _no_. +Of course, when the answer is yes, they both feed on the thought of +marriage until its consummation. But if she is forced to say no, it +leaves her barren of any thing to offer in lieu of the affection +demanded. She is at once destituted of resources. She has no mental +reservoir out of which she may feed the man's desire, and gently but +effectually turn it into an intellectual channel of her own making and +directing. Therefore the man is lost to her--be he Platitude or +Pleasure. She has made the fatal failure of neglecting to furnish--and +at once--a sufficient amount of intellectual excitement to fascinate the +man into lingering, and force him finally into a steadfast allegiance. +Women ought never insult their rejected lovers by _asking_ them for +their friendship. Those things come, if come they can, of themselves. It +is such an ugly mistake to insist on giving every thing a name. Emotions +thrive so much better when they are nameless. We rightly label poisons, +but why should we label perfumes? I love a touch of the vague and of the +mysterious. It is the mystery-man who wins the woman. Direct +courtships--when found in novels--read well, but they are not advisable +in real life. Women like to upset well-laid plans by perverse and +counter movements. A man must always let a woman do a reasonable share +of the courting. I know so many men who have been courted outright by +their wives--of course in a gentle, womanly way. It is often done. I +have sometimes been so much interested in a man that I have fancied +myself at last in love. But it is always a fleet-footed fancy. Interest +and Love are not always the same--Robert Fairfield once interested me, +but I never loved him. + +I lead an ideal, independent life. I have no uncongenial family +ties. My wishes, yea, even my whims, find instant gratification, if +gratification is possible. I am just delicate enough to gain the +tenderest consideration from all who know me. My little social sins +gain the readiest forgiveness--from those who love me--and, in the eyes +of some, grow into positive virtues. I maybe outrageously tardy for an +engagement, or, without any particular reason, break it altogether, +yet be understood and upheld. Platitudes do not always understand, and +sometimes foolishly rebel. But it is of no use. I have a little way +of making them believe that it was actually they and not I who had +committed the offense. And they plead for _me_ to forgive _them!_ + +My modes of life are somewhat peculiar--at least commonplace persons +think them so. I give little lunches and dinners. I invite just +whomsoever I please. Now and then, for the sake of good form, and of the +good mother, I have regulation affairs, to which I bid the _society +regulars_--the so-called first and best set, who take invitations +as a matter of course, who consider themselves the social salt of the +earth, who go every where, and move about the houses of other people +as if they owned them. The _Society Regular_ is a well-dressed, +bad-mannered, somewhat disagreeable animal, devoid of innate delicacy, +and absolutely without gratitude. They are Platitudes of the first +water. They do not frequent my house. They never dine or lunch with +me, my Pleasures and other Platitudes. + +This regulation affair is generally and afternoon tea. I leave out my +retinue, the Kaleidoscopic Circle, and tell them about it afterward. My +Social Exquisites and my Social Drifters are _reformed regulars_--brands +snatched from the burning by me. Briefless Barristers delight me very +much. I have several interesting specimens in the legal line. It is +interesting to have "young men of great promise" around me. True, their +fees are small and few between, yet that enables them to see just that +much more of me. In the old days I used to read law with them; but I +have very wisely abandoned that little habit--it was tiresome. + +I have one or two Men Who Have Risen. They are crude, uncultured +creatures, but full of excellent points. One of them is a widower, +who made his large fortune killing hogs, and afterward canning peas, +tomatoes, etc. Of course he talks all the time about how he made his +money. I am always an attentive listener, and I verily believe that I +now have a practical knowledge of the hog business and canning interests +of the country. + +Men Unsuccessful look to me for new inspiration, new hope. They are +always interesting. They are mental fragments flung aside by God, and +by Him held down--so they tell me. They are bitter, cynical, and nearly +always dyspeptic. They are near of kin to my Sympathy Seekers, who are +pale, light-haired creatures, continually making appeals for sympathy. +But my Sympathy Finders are very near and dear to me. They are generally +silent, melancholy men. They are always bearable, unless they chance to +be in love with some other woman, and make me, along with a dozen other +people, their _one and only_ confidant. Then is my life made a +burden. I am privately interviewed on all occasions, the more +inopportune the better. I am cornered and made a vessel for his pent-up +feelings. I am told of her cruel treatment. I am told of her charms and +of her faults--principally not loving him. I am worked up into a nervous +state. My physical nature grants him tears, while my mental nature +speculates about the sincerity of his passion and just to how many +others he may have told the self-same story. Of course all this is +wearing, yet it is very interesting. + +Newspaper Reporters are a much-abused, downtrodden class. I have known +many, and I have yet to know one unworthy of a true woman's confidence. +Treat them as if they were dogs, and they will act like dogs--forever +barking and biting at your heels; but treat them like human beings, with +due and just consideration, and they will prove to you the wisdom of +your course. Newspaper Poets gather about me in a body. I have all +styles and gradations. They run the entire range from bad to fairly +good; but there is one who writes a most exquisite verse. He is a +tender, sympathetic, yet cynical man. Somehow he has slipped away. I was +not able to hold him, nor did I wish or even dare to keep him. He is +scornful of the world. He sees no reason why he should be here. He would +rather not have been born--if _he_ had been consulted. After all, +I may have idealized and overrated him. One of his rival poet friends +once told me that my favorite and favored verse-maker was an inveterate +poker-player and a continual loser! Ergo, the cynicism and scornfulness +of the world. But banish tawdry thought! + +Authors Private and Authors Public haunt my salon; men who have written +and printed "little things of their own" for "private circulation only;" +and men who have given their books to the world at large--generally to +the detriment of the world. They are full of twists and notions. They +seek me to gain admiration, and they do--for I am a generous person. +People Of The Army and People Of The Navy are valuable to have around, +for the sake of looks and manners. They never disappoint you. A man +who has been on an Arctic expedition is especially desirable. You get +material for a hero at small cost. I have one Arctic Explorer, and two +army men who have been stationed in Yellowstone Park, and who fought +with the dead Custer. My Bohemians are my chief delight, and they are +many. They give the brightest, strongest colors to my Kaleidoscopic +Circle. They give me new strength to fight the little battles and calms +of every-day life. They give me the halo and the aroma of a new +existence. This, in brief, the retinue. + +I seldom have--and less here of late than ever--a desire to marry. +To me marriage would be such an uncertain thing--a risk with so little +to gain. I am unwilling to relinquish my hold on the center of this +charming circle. As it is I am a possibility--unfulfilled, it is true, +yet a possibility--to twenty men or more. So I am unwilling to give +up _all_ of my Pleasures just for the sake of any _one_ particular +Pleasure, who might in six months, aye six days, reduce himself into +a miserable Platitude. I may and I may not be a great number of things; +but alas, above all, I am critical. Platitudes as Platitudes may +constantly afford even considerable interest, but Platitudes do not make +ideal husbands for women of my peculiar temperament and mental caliber. + +I would rather be a Queen of Possibilities reigning over many hearts +than a Queen of just one heart, and that one, perhaps, a most unworthy +heart. + +[Illustration: +Miss Lina Searlwood, +(of the Inner Sisterhood.)] + + + + + + + + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Inner Sisterhood, by Douglass Sherley et al. + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE INNER SISTERHOOD *** + +***** This file should be named 15179-8.txt or 15179-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/5/1/7/15179/ + +Produced by Kentuckiana Digital Library, David Garcia and the PG +Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net/ + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Inner Sisterhood + A Social Study in High Colors + +Author: Douglass Sherley et al. + +Release Date: February 26, 2005 [EBook #15179] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE INNER SISTERHOOD *** + + + + +Produced by Kentuckiana Digital Library, David Garcia and the PG +Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net/ + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<p style="text-indent: 0em; font-size: 85%;"> +[Transcriber's Note: The layout of this document, especially serif vs. sans-serif, boldface, +indentation and size are an accurate representation of the typography +used in the original. The author is known for eclectic choices in these respects.]</p> + +<div style="height: 4em;"><br /><br /><br /><br /></div> + +<h1 style="font-family: sans-serif;"> + The Inner Sisterhood +</h1> + +<center> +<img src="images/title-1.png" height="286" width="300" +alt="" /> +</center> + +<h2 style="font-family: sans-serif; font-variant: small-caps;"> +—A Social Study in High Colors— +</h2> + +<h3> +by +<br /> +<span style="font-variant: small-caps;"><span style="font-size:200%;">D</span>ouglass <span style="font-size:200%;">S</span>herley</span> +</h3> + +<p style="text-indent: 0em; text-align: center; font-family: serif;"> +<span style="font-size: 65%; font-family: sans-serif;">WHO WROTE</span> +<br /> +<span style="font-weight: bold;"> +The Valley of Unrest: A Book without a Woman +</span> +</p> + +<center> +<img src="images/title-2.png" height="67" width="402" +alt="" /> +</center> + + +<p style="text-indent: 0em; text-align: center; font-size: 65%; font-family: sans-serif;"> +1884 <br /> +IMPRIMARY <br /> +LOUISVILLE, KENTUCKY <br /> +JOHN P. MORTON AND COMPANY +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p> </p> +<p style="text-indent: 0em; text-align: center; font-size: 65%;"> + Copyrighted according to Law,<br /> + 1884,<br /> + By Douglass Sherley. +</p> +<p> </p> + +<hr class="full" /> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<hr /> + +<p> </p> +<p style="text-indent: 0em; text-align: center; font-family: sans-serif;"> +<span style="font-size: 200%;">The Inner Sisterhood.</span> +<br /> +Dedicated to +<br /> +<span style="font-size: 150%;">One of the Sisterhood.</span> +</p> + +<p> </p> + +<hr /> + +<center> +<img src="images/dedicat.png" height="205" width="400" +alt="" /> +</center> + + + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<hr class="full" /> + +<h2 style="font-family: serif;"> +I<br /> +II<br /> +III<br /> +IV<br /> +V<br /> +VI<br /> +VII +</h2> + +<hr /> + +<h2 style="margin: 0em;"> +<a href="#h2H_4_0002"> +<span style="font-size: 150%;">J</span>ust <span style="font-size: 150%;">A</span>fter the <span style="font-size: 150%;">B</span>all: +</a> +</h2> +<h4 style="margin: 0em 0em 1em 0em;"> +Miss Kate Meadows. +</h4> + +<h2 style="font-family: sans-serif; font-variant: small-caps; margin: 0em;"> +<a href="#h2H_4_0003"> +<span style="font-size: 150%;">R</span>obert <span style="font-size: 150%;">F</span>airfield, <span style="font-size: 150%;">L</span>over: +</a> +</h2> +<h4 style="margin: 0em 0em 1em 0em;"> +Miss Belle Mason. +</h4> + +<h2 style="font-family: serif; font-variant: small-caps; margin: 0em;"> +<a href="#h2H_4_0004"> +<span style="font-size: 150%;">T</span>he<span style="font-size: 150%;">·B</span>uzz<span style="font-size: 150%;">÷S</span>aw<span style="font-size: 150%;">·G</span>irl: +</a> +</h2> +<h4 style="margin: 0em 0em 1em 0em;"> +Miss Alice Wing. +</h4> + +<h2 style="font-family: sans-serif; font-variant: small-caps; margin: 0em;"> +<a href="#h2H_4_0005"> +<span style="font-size: 150%;">F</span>lirting for <span style="font-size: 150%;">R</span>evenue <span style="font-size: 150%;">O</span>nly: +</a> +</h2> +<h4 style="margin: 0em 0em 1em 0em;"> +Miss Rose Clendennin. +</h4> + +<h2 style="font-family: sans-serif; margin: 0em;"> +<a href="#h2H_4_0006"> +Mother and Daughter: +</a> +</h2> +<h4 style="margin: 0em 0em 1em 0em;"> +Miss Sophia Gilder. +</h4> + +<h2 style="font-family: serif; margin: 0em;"> +<a href="#h2H_4_0007"> +A CASE OF COMPOUND FRACTURE: +</a> +</h2> +<h4 style="margin: 0em 0em 1em 0em;"> +Miss Mary Lee Manley. +</h4> + +<h2 style="font-family: serif; margin: 0em;"> +<a href="#h2H_4_0008"> +<span style="font-size: 150%;">P</span>latitudes and <span style="font-size: 150%;">P</span>leasures: +</a> +</h2> +<h4 style="margin: 0em 0em 1em 0em;"> +Miss Lena Searlwood. +</h4> + +<p style="text-indent: 0em; font-variant: small-caps; text-align: center; border: 1px solid black;"> +<a href="images/titles.png">See above page as image</a></p> + +<hr class="full" /> + +<a name="h2H_4_0002" id="h2H_4_0002"><!-- H2 anchor --></a> +<div style="height: 4em;"><br /><br /><br /><br /></div> +<hr /> +<h2> +I +</h2> +<p class="title"> +A Bit of Sweet Simplicity <br /> +In Blue. +</p> +<hr /> + +<div style="height: 4em;"><br /><br /><br /><br /></div> + +<h2> +Just After The Ball. +</h2> +<p> +<span style="font-variant: small-caps;"><span style="font-size: 175%;">T</span>he</span> storm-door closes with a bang! My escort, a stupid fellow, has +said "Good-night!" He drives down the street in his old rattletrap +of a coupe. I am so glad he is gone! And yet I am always afraid of +burglars—or—something dreadful, whenever I go into the house alone +so late at night. I bolt the inside door. I mount the hall-chair, left +waiting by papa, and, trembling with a nameless fear, turn out the gas +and leave myself in darkness. I make two vain dashes for the stair; a +third, and I have found it. I grope for the heavy rail and go rapidly +up, two steps at a time, and finally, out of breath, badly frightened, +reach my room. What a relief! I turn on the light—two, three, yes, four +burners, and wish for more. I stir up the fire into a blaze; look over +my left shoulder, but see nothing; listen, but hear nothing. I wheel +my dressing-table near by; seat myself before the pretty oval mirror. +I tear off those ugly blossoms, sent by that stupid man for me to wear; +I look long and earnestly at the tired face I see reflected in the pretty +oval mirror, with its beveled edges and dainty drapery of pink silk and +pure white mull. It is not a pretty face; even my friends do not think +me beautiful. Yet I sometimes fancy—alas! perhaps it is only a +fancy—that I have on my face a suggestion of beauty, even if beauty +itself be absent. My eyes are full and dark, with long lashes; my mouth +is somewhat large, not a good shape either, and some people—who do not +like me—say that they can easily detect a hard, cold expression which +does not please them. But my profile is good in spite of my ill-featured +mouth, and there is—generally acknowledged—a certain high-born, +well-bred look about the poise of my shapely head which gains for me +more than a mere passing notice. My manners are pronounced "charming," +and by many—those who like me—charmingly faultless. So, after all, in +spite of this lack of a positive style of beauty, I am what might be +termed a "social success." But it is a social success which I have +slowly gained, with much labor, and its duration is somewhat uncertain. +I am just beginning to be sure of myself, although this is my fourth +winter out. True, I have almost always had an escort to every thing +given, but I have never been able to fully assert myself. Now, wherever +I go, I boldly, and without fear, seek out some comfortable place in +some one room, at reception, party, or ball, and rest assured that all +of my now-many friends and half dozen or more lovers will seek me out, +and having found me, will linger about me the entire evening; and if +I like, I need not even move from that one pleasant place during the +entertainment, but have my supper brought to me and the two or three +other girls who make up our set, for you know it is so disagreeable to +crowd into the supper-room; it is a vulgar eagerness, that carries with +it a low-born air of actual hunger, and it is so vulgar to be hungry; +and our set is so well-born and so well-reared. But, O, my! my hair's +all in a tangle; comes of trying to do it up in a Langtry-knot. I don't +think it is a nice way to fix hair, anyhow. I like to pile mine on the +top of my head. Don't much care if people like it or not. And yet—well, +yes, I believe I do care a little bit. I suppose I'll have to take it +down myself to-night, and not call the maid, because she's very tired, +and when she's tired she's cross; I hate cross people. But I ought not +to blame her, because I've been out four nights this week, and the +musicale is to-morrow evening. The musicales are always so nice—for +people who like music, and I have many friends who are so devoted to +music, at least they say they are. O, this is such a gay season! I don't +know why, but people say it is always going to be dull, and yet, it is +always so gay. The men go down to the Pelham Club a great deal more than +they ought, and yet they don't neglect us entirely; and surely we have +no reason to complain for a lack of parties. Just think of it! three +crushes in two weeks, seven small affairs, excellent play at the theater +all of next week, and I already have three nights engaged, and a chance +of two more. That stupid fellow said something about would I like to go +with him some time during the week. How provokingly vague! But he never +made it more definite and final; just never said another word about it. +I hate men who neglect things. +</p> +<p> +Now, my hair is all combed out, and it's not a bad color, either. I +never knew that Belle Mason to have as good a time as she undoubtedly +had to-night. She was actually surrounded the entire evening; four or +five men all the time, and I not more than three. I never did like her; +she has such a conceited air; and now she'll be worse than ever. But I +should not have cared if every other man in the house had stood by her +the entire evening, but to think that even Robert Fairfield was with her +constantly! He only bowed <i>AT ME</i> from across the room, and never +came near me. At the Monday-night German he gave me, with a hand-touch +and a smile, this red rose, then a bud, and I, foolishly, wore it +to-night, although it was faded. The horrid, withered thing! Yes, I was +actually foolish enough to wear it for his sake, and he all the time by +the side of Belle Mason! It was a brilliant affair to-night—so every +body said; at least a dozen said as much to me, and I heard a great many +more saying that same thing to our hostess. All the people really seemed +to have a good time. But somehow I didn't enjoy myself much, and there +are several reasons why. I abominate going out with a stupid man; but +there was no other to go with, so it was an absolute necessity, because +go I must. He brought a shabby, uncomfortable coupe. He had sent ugly, +dabby flowers; and he hung about me the entire evening with the silent, +confident air of the young person who fancies himself engaged to you. +He said nothing; he did nothing—except bring me a melted ice; but he +looked a number of unutterably stupid things. And I heard more than one +woman, in a loud, coarse whisper, say, "I wonder why she came with that +stupid stick of a man?" But, of course, they didn't mean for me to hear +it; they would not be so unkind; but, unfortunately for my comfort, I +did hear, and every word. But that was not all. It's a hard thing for a +woman, in a gay season, to appear each night in a new dress. Of course +you can have one nice, white dress, and change the ribbons—sometimes +pink, sometimes blue, or any color that may happen to strike your +fancy—but sooner or later people will find that out; they will just +know it's the same dress with other ribbons, and it's a social deception +which fashionable society-idiots just will not tolerate. You must appear +in a new dress or an old dress, undisguised. Now, to-night, how was +I to know that Mrs. Babbington Brooks could afford to give so elegant +an affair, or in fact would be able to induce so large a number of +the best and nicest people in town to be present at this, her first +entertainment. People said it was going to be crude, perhaps +disagreeable. So I wore that pale-blue silk—old shade of blue—which +I almost ruined at the Monday-night German. When I entered the +dressing-room four or five of my best girl-friends affectionately kissed +me on the cheek, and exclaimed something about being so glad that I had +worn my pretty, pale-blue silk, and that it was so becoming; and was it +not that same "love-of-a-dress" which I had worn at the Monday-night +German? Now I really would believe those girls malicious if I did not +know they were—each one of the dear, sweet creatures—<i>perfectly +devoted</i> to me; because they have told me of their devotion many +times, and I know they would not say any thing they did not mean—girls +in our set never do! +</p> +<p> +But this painful fact remains: my pale-blue silk is <i>not</i> becoming! +I am entirely too dark to wear pale-blue, and I am just dying for a +terra-cotta. It's the loveliest shade in all the world! Papa likes blue, +so I ordered it to please him, because he is of the opinion that every +body looks well in that color, because mamma always looked well in blue +when she was young and beautiful. That reminds me what several old +married women said to me at the party to-night: "O, my dear, your mamma +was perfectly beautiful when she was your age! And she had so much +attention, and from such nice young men!" And they looked right at that +stupid fellow, for his silent stupidity had driven away all the other +men, who were just as nice as any of mamma's old beaus, too. But those +old ladies could not have meant any thing, because they are dear mamma's +most intimate friends, and I am sure must take a kindly interest in my +welfare. It's a dreadful thing to have had a beautiful mamma, when you +are not considered beautiful yourself, in fact barely good-looking. +</p> +<p> +But quickly to bed, or I will look what I am, tired and worn-out, at the +musicale to-morrow evening. I must be fresh and well-rested, because I +am to play, and alone, a most difficult instrumental piece. It's one of +those lovely "Nocturnes." I wonder if I'll be encored? I was not when I +played at the last musicale. +</p> +<p> +The lights are out! The fire burns low! I thrust back the little +dressing-table, with its pretty oval mirror, beveled edges, and dainty +drapery of pale pink silk and pure white mull. I tenderly take that +withered rose from off the floor, where I rudely tossed it in my anger +of an hour ago. +</p> +<p> +I forget that stupid fellow, my escort; the pale-blue dress, so often +worn; the random words—idle, thoughtless, and unkind, at least in +their effect; even pretty Belle Mason fades away, and her charm and +her triumph no longer remembered against her. I go a-drifting from all +unpleasant memories! I murmur a prayer learned at mamma's knee long +years ago, and alas! for long years left unsaid. I kneel in the +firelight glow, I tenderly, fondly kiss that red rose. True, it is +withered and dead, yet how sweet it is to my lips, and how dear it is +to my heart! Something whispers that I love the man who gave it me! It +seems to quiver to life again, and tremulous with a strange, new joy, +I remember the hand-touch and the smile which came with the giving of +that red rose. +</p> +<a name="image-0001"><!--IMG--></a> +<center> +<img src="images/sig-1.png" width="401" height="106" +alt="Miss Kate Meadows +(of the Inner Sisterhood)" /> +</center> + + +<a name="h2H_4_0003" id="h2H_4_0003"><!-- H2 anchor --></a> +<div style="height: 4em;"><br /><br /><br /><br /></div> +<hr /> +<h2> +II +</h2> +<p class="title"> +A Dash of Jealousy and Hypocrisy <br /> +Done up in Old Gold. +</p> +<hr /> + +<div style="height: 4em;"><br /><br /><br /><br /></div> + +<h2 style="font-family: sans-serif;"> +<span style="font-size: 150%;">R</span>obert <span style="font-size: 150%;">F</span>airfield, <span style="font-size: 150%;">L</span>over. +</h2> +<p> +<span style="font-variant: small-caps;"><span style="font-size: 175%;">R</span>obert Fairfield</span> is an average man among men—but he is something more: +He is the ideal man among women. All women have ideals, and there is +not, there can not be a more dangerous piece of heart-furniture. An +ideal is easily broken, sometimes badly damaged, always liable to +injury; and the heart of woman hath not one cabinet-maker who can, with +his touch and skill, bring back one departed charm, one lost beauty. +</p> +<p> +I know this man—and yet I do not. I love him—and yet, again, I do not. +I suspect that, woman-like, I am more fond of his charming, delicate +attentions than I am of the man himself. I sometimes fancy that he loves +me; but I am wise enough in my day and generation to be painfully aware +of the fact that just about six other women entertain the same delicious +fancy. He has told me of his love, told me in a gentle, artistic +manner—and doubtless he has told the six other females the same story; +for he need not trouble himself to vary the telling each time, because +he has no fear of detection. +</p> +<p> +He knows that he is never the topic of conversation among women. They +seldom, if ever, discuss their ideals, and all of them, myself included, +have a most evidently-conscious air whenever dear Robert's name happens +to be mentioned, no matter how trivial the mention. But I am the +least touched, and surely the more unresponsive of the entire seven, +consequently he is more devoted to me than to any of the others. He was +by my side the entire evening at Mrs. Babbington Brooks's elegant and +most fashionable ball the other night; he was my escort to the musicale +last Tuesday, and O, he did look so handsome! And he never before said +SO MANY positively tender things, and he said them in such a tired, +pathetic tone, that he almost won my heart; really, when I'm with the +man I am sure that I love him, and most devotedly. But I have perfect +control over myself and my limited supply of feeling—Henry Seyhmoor +says I am without a heart; so I only look at him full in the face when +he tells me all those tender little things, and then turn away with a +light laugh—assumed, of course—and gently but firmly remind him that +I am <i>not</i> Kate Meadows. +</p> +<p> +Ah, here is a note from him now! He always writes from the Club—the +Pelham, of course. I don't know the people who belong to any other Club. +What a nice thing it must be to go down to the Club at night, or +whenever you like—I wish I was a man. And this is his note: +</p> +<p class="quote"> + "Your Platonic friend, Henry Seyhmoor, seems quite devoted here of + late, my dear Miss Mason. I saw you with him last evening at the + theater; your talk charmed him into unusual silence. How entertaining + you must have been! +</p> +<p class="quote"> + "Won't you go with me to the opera Friday night; and won't you be as + nice to me then as you were at the musicale—no, not that nice only, + but even nicer still—as nice—as—well—as I should like you to be; + won't you? +</p> +<p class="quote"> + <i>"Robert Fairfield"</i> +</p> +<p style="text-indent: 0em;"> +A note of mere nothings. My common sense tells me that much. Yet I find +myself forming words for myself between the written lines, and twice +read that dainty card, with the crest and motto of Pelham. Of course +I'll go with him; for to go with Robert Fairfield any where means a +delightful time to any girl so fortunate. It means a bunch of roses +almost heavenly in their sweet loveliness! It means the two best seats +in the theater! It means the turning of a hundred envious female eyes +from all parts of the crowded house; for our theater is always crowded +on Friday nights, no matter what the play or players may chance to be. +Because it is fashionable to go on Friday nights, and theatergoers in +this town are so fashionable. +</p> +<p> +I am glad, at least once a year, that I am a Methodist, because we +don't keep Lent. But Kate Meadows is very high-church, and, of course, +she ought to keep it! I wonder if she will? She was not out during the +Langtry engagement; but that was on account of lack of men, not on +account of Lent; because her little brother told my Cousin Mary's little +girl that nobody had asked his sister to go any where for days and days, +and that his papa had to take her whenever she went any where. However, +I suppose she'll go, if she goes at all, with her papa; he often takes +her out. I heard her say that she did just love to go out with her dear +papa, and that it pleased him so much. Poor old man! I saw him nodding +and napping, nearly dead for sleep, the last time he was out with her. +It's a shame to keep him up so! As for myself, I would never go <i>any +where</i> if I had to, for the lack of a man, always be dragging poor +papa out. It must be so very mortifying. But nothing could mortify +that girl; she is such an upstart. Her bonnets and her dresses are the +talk of the town, because they are so ugly and unbecoming. But she +has a gracious and pleasant manner, and sometimes has a good deal of +attention—whenever she once gets out. People frequently say nice +things about her; but I am sure it's their duty, because she entertains +charmingly and often. She never gives any thing like a regular party, +but quiet little affairs that are acknowledged to be very elegant by +all who are so fortunate as to be invited—because people never decline +invitations to her house. She is the only girl that I am afraid may +finally win Robert Fairfield. She's passionately, foolishly in love with +him! Why, I saw him give her a red rose-bud at our last Monday-night +German, off in the corner—he didn't know I was looking—and didn't I +see her wear that same red bud, then a withered rose, to Mrs. Babbington +Brooks' the following Thursday evening? She wore the shriveled thing on +her left shoulder, nestled down in a lover's knot of pale-blue ribbon. +But I made myself so agreeable and altogether lovely that dear Robert +F. did not go near her the entire evening; only gave her, from across +the room, by my side, the <i>bow of compensation</i>. He left that rose, +thanks to me and my successful efforts, to languish unnoticed in its +lover's knot of pale blue. Ah, Kate Meadows, that time your lover's +knot was made in vain! +</p> +<p> +The "Earnest Workers," a society of our church, for ladies only, meets +this afternoon at four, and it's nearly that time now; so I must put on +what I call my "charity dress and poverty hat." It's such a good thing +to dress plain and religious-like now and then, just for a change, +especially when it's becoming. I will carry my little work-basket and +wear, as I go down the street, a quiet, sober smile, and cultivate a +pious air—a trifle pious anyhow. And if I chance to meet Mr. Fairfield +he will, of course, join me, and wonder as we walk how one so worldly +can be, at times, so charitably inclined and so full of such good works +and holy thoughts. I sometimes wish I was good. But it's so stupid to be +good, and the men don't like you half as well. And I am very willing to +acknowledge it, I like the admiration of men. I don't know any "balm in +Gilead" so sweet and altogether acceptable. +</p> +<p> +But see! Down the street, right beneath my room-window, comes +<i>that</i> Kate Meadows; and Robert Fairfield's with her! He holds her +prayer-book in his hand! How earnestly they are talking! I wonder what +it's about? What a tender look on his face turned full toward her +downcast eyes! O, the <i>hypocrite</i>! They are both hypocrites; we are +all hypocrites! On their way to that horrid afternoon Lenten service! +It's a whole square out of the way to come by this house! She did it on +purpose; I know it, I know it! She just wanted me to see her with him! +She's the meanest girl in this town! I always disliked her, and now I +fairly despise the very ground she walks on—when she's walking it with +him! She's coming to spend all of Tuesday morning with me; won't I be +gracious though! I'll kiss her three or four times, instead of the +regulation-twice! I <i>can</i> be hypocritical, and <i>sauve</i> too! +I don't wish I was good! I don't ever want to be good! They have turned +the corner! They are out of sight! I just won't go one step to the +"Earnest Workers!" It's all nonsense, any how! Just sewing, and +gossiping, and talking about the minister and his wife, and all the rest +of the congregation who are not there! No, <i>no</i>, NO! I'll just stay +right here at home, and I'll have—yes, I will—I'll have a real good +cry. +</p> +<a name="image-0002"><!--IMG--></a> +<center> +<img src="images/sig-2.png" width="401" height="105" +alt="Miss Bella Mason. +(of the Inner Sisterhood.)" /> +</center> + + + +<a name="h2H_4_0004" id="h2H_4_0004"><!-- H2 anchor --></a> +<div style="height: 4em;"><br /><br /><br /><br /></div> +<hr /> +<h2> +III +</h2> +<p class="title"> +A Wild Fantasy <br /> +In Garrulous Red. +</p> +<hr /> + +<div style="height: 4em;"><br /><br /><br /><br /></div> + +<h2 style="font-family: serif; font-variant: small-caps;"> +—<span style="font-size: 150%;">T</span>he<span style="font-size: 150%;">·B</span>uzz<span style="font-size: 150%;">÷S</span>aw<span style="font-size: 150%;">·G</span>irl.— +</h2> +<p> +<span style="font-variant: small-caps;"><span style="font-size: 175%;">I</span> just</span> must talk! I must talk all the time! Of course I talk entirely +too much—no one knows that any better than I do—yet I can not help it! +I know that my continual cackling is dreadful, and I know just exactly +when it begins to bore people, but somehow I can't stop myself, but go +right on and on in spite of myself. +</p> +<p> +Aunt Patsey says I am simply fearful, and just like a girl she used to +know, who lived down-East, a Miss Polly Blanton, who talked <i>all</i> +the time; told every thing, every thing she knew, every thing she had +ever heard; and then when she could think of nothing else, boldly began +on the <i>family secrets</i>. Well, I believe I am just like that +girl—because I am constantly telling things about our domestic life +which is by no means pleasant. Pa and ma lead an awful kind of an +existence—live just like cats and dogs. Now I ought never to tell that, +yet somehow it will slip out in spite of myself! +</p> +<p> +My pa says I really do act as if I did not have good sense, and I am, +for the world, just like ma. And ma, she says I am without delicacy, +manners, or any of the other new touches that most girls have. As for +Aunt Patsey, she is <i>always</i> after me! She is "Old Propriety" +itself! She goes in heavy for <i>good form</i>. "Not good form, my dear, +not good form!" is what I hear from morning until night. I do get so +tired of it! They are all real hard on me! No body ever gives me +encouragement, and yet every body is ready with heavy doses of +admonition! Now ma is a powerful big talker herself, although she won't +acknowledge it; but she always seems to know just what not to say! I +call that real talking-luck! I am so unlucky talking. +</p> +<p> +But the big power in our house is Aunt Patsey Wing! There is always +bound to be such a person in every well-furnished house! They seem to +be just as necessary as the sofas and easy-chairs—but not quite so +comfortable to have around. We are all deathly afraid of her! She is +rich, stingy, and says that she has made a will, leaving every dollar +to the "Widows and Orphans' Home"—a nice way to do her relations! So of +course we are on the strain; on our best behavior to effect a change in +our favor. Ma says she will never, in this world, change it—and changes +made in any other world won't do us any good. But pa says he knows how +to break it! Mr. Meggley, her lawyer, who drew up the will, has made +an agreement to sell pa the flaw—for of course there is one in it, for +all wills have flaws—then he will employ another lawyer and break it +without any trouble. My, it will be so exciting! I suppose we will have +to prove that Aunt Patsey was of unsound mind. Pa will give us our +testimony to learn by heart! Pa is a real enterprising man! Some people +say he is a regular schemer, but Aunt Patsey says that he is a brilliant +financier! He has made and lost two or three big fortunes! He lost one +not long ago, and it is so hard just now to make both ends meet. But +Aunt Patsey pays a little board; that helps along, at least with the +table! +</p> +<p> +Pa gives me a small allowance—when he has the money; then not one cent +more! I believe every body in town knows just how much he allows me! Pa +says I told it, myself. Perhaps I did; one can't remember every thing +one chances to say. Although my amount is small, yet I have quite a +little way of fixing myself, and always looking real nice. Aunt Patsey +says I do pretty well, until I open my big mouth and begin to rattle, +rattle, rattle! She says I talk more and say less than any body she has +ever known, except that down-East girl, Polly Blanton, who always +told—when in want of any other topic—the <i>family secrets</i>. Aunt +Patsey is forever-and-a-day preaching to me about <i>good form</i>; what +I ought, and what I ought not to do; sometimes repeats long passages +from the prayer-book—nearly all the morning service—then says, "It's +no use, no use; just like pouring water on a duck's back!" But she must +love to do useless things, for she just keeps right on. She says that +I ought to be able to keep silent once in a while, anyhow; but I don't +know <i>how</i> to keep silent. +</p> +<p> +Some body had to come and tell her—Aunt Patsey—that I talked a great +deal, and very loud, at the theater, between acts. Now the idea of +finding fault with girls, or any body, who talk <i>between acts!</i> Why +it's just perfectly delightful! I begin the moment the curtain drops; +I don't even wait for the music to begin—it is such a waste of time! +I know that I do talk a little too loud; but just lots of real nice +persons talk real loud at the theater—it comes natural. When people +turn around and look at me as if I was really doing something dreadful, +then I talk ever and ever so much more! People can't frown <i>me</i> +down—no indeed, double deed, not if Alice Wing knows any thing about +herself! People who know me never try; except my family, headed by Aunt +Patsey, who always says, "We are prompted by a deep sense of duty, my +dear, <i>duty</i>!" +</p> +<p> +I am <i>almost engaged</i>! Even Aunt Patsey likes the man, and O, +so do I! He is nice and quiet, and just loves to hear me talk—never +interrupts me, but lets me go on, and looks at me so admiring-like all +the time! Ma says I am sure to spoil every thing by too much talking! He +is <i>so</i> timid! I encourage him, though, all I can; he seems to like +encouragement <i>so</i> much! He understands and appreciates me, too, +and that is a great deal; for most of the other men act so funny when +they are left alone with me! They nearly always have a solemn, almost +scared look—but I really don't know why! I must confess that I like +stupid men; they may not talk much, yet they seem real eager to listen! +Then stupid men always have such good manners, which, in society, counts +for a great deal! People who have good manners are so safe—they never +do any thing startling! I wish my manners were better—but they are +not! After one of Aunt Patsey's talks on <i>good form</i>, and strict +propriety, I try to improve—regenerate, if possible. I often watch Miss +Lena Searlwood, one of the older girls, who is a great favorite with +Aunt Patsey—but it is no use! She is a self-contained woman, never ill +at ease, and who puts you, and at once, at rights with yourself. She is +a most beautiful and discreet talker! She would rather die, burn at the +stake, suffer on the rack, than tell even the suspicion of a <i>family +secret</i>! Aunt Patsey is always talking her up to me, wishing that +I would be only a little bit like her anyhow. So the other night, at +a party, I took special care to notice the attractive Lena. She is so +graceful; quiet grace, ma calls it. She leaned against a heavy, carved +chimney-piece, with dark-red plush hangings, and she looked for all the +world just like a tall, white flower, slender, beautiful! She was slowly +picking to pieces, leaf by leaf, a pale-pink rose, which she had stolen +away from somewhere about her willowy, white throat. And while she was +doing all this—and it took quite a while, too—she looked full in the +face of the man by her side, that rather good-looking, stuck-up Calburt +Young, <i>and said nothing</i>—absolutely not a word! She did this long +enough to make me almost lose my breath. I could not do a thing like +that; it would give me nervous prostration sure! Yet, I know it is +very effective! It was just like some picture you read about, and it +was beautiful, striking, down to the smallest detail. But situations +effective, and details pleasing, are not in my line, and they are +just as much a mystery as improper fractions used to be when I was a +schoolgirl. I hated my school! It was called a "Young Ladies' Seminary." +It was a fashionable, intellectual hot-house, where premature, fleeting +blooms were cultivated regardless of any future consequence. But I +was a barren bush! I never fashion-flowered into a profusion of showy +blossoms. Aunt Patsey said that I did not reap the harvest of my golden +opportunities; but pa, he growled and grumbled a good deal when the +bills came pouring in, but paid them, and roundly swore that he was glad +he had no more fool-daughters to finish off in a fashionable seminary. +</p> +<p> +I have a keen sense of the ridiculous, and it gets me in trouble all the +time. I don't mean any harm; but I can't help telling a good thing when +I hear it or see it myself. Now that <i>same</i> Calburt Young can't +bear me; he hates me in good fashion because I made fun of his doleful +air, and said that he had the looks and the manners of a man who had, in +a desperate mood, shot down his sweetheart, concealed the fact, and was +suffering the pangs of deep remorse for the dreadful deed. He heard +about it and got angry! He <i>does</i> look awful gloomy! He says I am +crude, <i>very</i> crude, and put people on edge; and that I am so +good-natured, so good-humored all the time that it reduces less +fortunate people into a state of most desperate defiance—defiance +against my everlasting flow of animal spirits, unchecked by any thing. +He told all that to Sophia Gilder, and Sophia is my bosom-friend; so she +told me! Aunt Patsey has a great admiration for her mother, Mrs. John +Robert Gilder, but says that Sophia, poor girl, is a milk-sop—weak, +weak! and taps her shining forehead knowingly. Auntie has a most +alarming way of disposing of people! I know all about her +methods—gracious goodness! I ought by this time. +</p> +<p> +About two or three months after I was finished off at the Seminary, Miss +Lena Searlwood gave a little affair in my honor. She called it a tea—it +really was more like a dinner! They do entertain <i>so</i> well! I was +taken home afterward by that Calburt Young—a great privilege I suppose! +He was in a bad humor anyhow; had not seen enough of Miss Lena! He let +me do all of the talking, never once suggesting a new topic, and +listened with an air, not of attention, but enforced toleration. It made +me furious! Two or three times he said "Yes?" which was really worse +than nothing! Finally, when near home, he turned to me and in a tired, +indifferent tone, said: "Beg pardon, Miss Wing; you are <i>just out</i>, +I believe! What did you study while at school?" It was a fling—I knew +it—so I answered, "I studied how to be rude to arrogant, patronizing +people who are forever asking impudent questions with a desire to give +pain, sir!" He placed my night-key in the door deliberately, calmly; +pushed open the door, lifted his hat, turned on his heel, without even +closing one half of the storm-doors, like other men always do, and said: +"Miss Wing, you have been well taught! You were, indeed, a very apt +scholar! I congratulate you! I have the honor to bid you good-night!" I +could have picked a dozen pale-pink roses to pieces just then, but not +leaf by leaf; I could have torn up a whole rose-tree by the roots! They +say Mr. Young is so smart, wonderful deep, and all that; but he is just +a mean, rude man, and I won't ever have any thing more to do with him; +and when I say I won't, <i>I won't</i>! +</p> +<p> +How some people do ruffle me into a fever-heat of dislike and ardent +opposition. Of course I know that it is all wrong, yet after all there +is a certain kind of satisfaction. Now, for instance, <i>that</i> Mrs. +Babbington Brooks, with her smooth, oily tongue, abominable phrases, +"Yes, my sweet loves," and her "O! my dear doves," sets me fairly wild. +She is such a vulgar, low-born person! I always feel tempted to fly +right at her and tear off her load of tawdry, costly finery, exhaling a +strong, close odor of greenbacks. How people have taken them up! all on +account of their money. They are invited every where; and only last +season people were turning up their noses and asking, "Who, pray, are +the Brookses?" Thanks to a cook from somewhere, and a butler from +somewhere else, their entertainments are said to be really delightful, +and their dinners perfection itself. They are not yet quite sure of +their position! They are afraid it will not be permanent! But they will +succeed. I know they will, because I <i>feel it</i>! To me there is +always something very fascinating about these desperate social +strugglers—especially when they are successful. Aunt Patsey, too, she +says they will succeed, and Aunt Patsey knows! But she don't know every +thing, for Mrs. John Robert Gilder has fooled her. But I am not +surprised; she would have fooled me, also, if I was not so intimate with +Sophia, who tells me <i>every thing</i>—the only person who ever did; +and there is just nothing I would not do for her. I know Sophia Gilder's +<i>other secret!</i> She is caring a great deal too much for a man who +don't take overmuch interest in her. But the man don't even know that +she cares any thing for him, and I don't believe he will ever +know—unless I tell him myself! Now I call that real tragedy; just as +good as any you ever see on the stage, or read about in books. I would +love to tell him; but that is <i>one thing</i> I have never told, and I +never will, either! As they say in novels, it will go down to my grave +with me. I am so anxious about Sophia, I am afraid it may take her +there. But I have my doubts, she is right healthy-looking yet. Aunt +Patsey says that love hurts a powerful lot, but don't often kill out and +out. Robert Fairfield is the man. Ma says she never could understand why +he don't pay me devoted attention. His father was one of her old beaus. +She was engaged to him; Aunt Patsey broke it off—she was scheming for +pa—she could break off any thing, that ancient female! Mr. Fairfield is +polite to me, and that is about all. When I was a school-girl I used to +dream about him! In my dreams he was always dressed like a knight, and +rode a milk-white steed, waved his hand toward me, and then I always +waked up. It was so provoking. I never could get any further into the +dream. I know I would like him if I knew him real well. He is quiet, but +not one bit stupid. He talks little, but oh, he is such an attentive +listener! He don't come after me, so I can't run after him. For I don't +know, and I don't want to know any thing about <i>catching</i> men—as +if they were wild animals, fish, or something. Aunt Patsey calls it +<i>diplomacy</i>! Diplomacy? Fiddle-sticks! It is down right deception +of the very worst kind. I know that I talk too much, tell a great many +things that ought to be left unsaid, but I do not tell lies—there is no +other name for them—and knowingly, with malice aforethought, make an +injury or do a wrong to any body. +</p> +<p> +But, my, my! I am always in trouble. Tom, my little brother, ran into +the room just now, nearly out of breath, and made a little speech which +almost gave me a nervous chill: "Oh, sister Alice! Won't you catch it, +though? Aunt Patsey is just in from her meeting of the 'Cruelty to +Animals' Association. She is in a dreadful way! She is just talking ma +black and blue! She is giving you 'Hail Columbia!' She met Mrs. +Par-dell, the manicure, the woman who ma says goes around fixing finger +nails for fifty cents, and gives you five dollars' worth of gossip, +sometimes scandal—to those who like it. She told Aunt Patsey a long +tale about what you had certainly said: that Aunt Patsey was seven years +older than she acknowledged; had been dyeing her hair for years; did not +have a real tooth of her own in her head, and was a regular old tyrant +here at home, and that all of us were afraid as death of even her thin, +old shadow. Oh, but won't you catch it, though! Sis, you had better +skip, and pretty quick, too! I think she's coming up-stairs now!" +</p> +<p> +It is awful, but I suppose I must have been telling just such a tale, +but to whom I can not, for the life of me, think. See now, all this +comes of telling the <i>family secrets</i>. That Mrs. Par-dell is a +dangerous woman! I refused flatly to have her make bird-claws out of +my finger-nails. This is her revenge! I am powerless! But it was not a +slander, it was all the truth; just as true as gospel. That's the reason +she is in such a rage. But she is coming; this house won't hold us both +just now, so I am off <i>via</i> back stairs—to dine with my dear +Sophia Gilder, if I don't find that fraud, Mrs. Babbington Brooks, there +ahead of me. She and Mrs. John Robert G. are inseparable. The old dragon +draws near—I am gone, leaving behind a smile and a kiss for my ancient +female relative. Ah, Aunt Patsey, not <i>good form</i>, you know, to get +angry with people—even with your niece, +</p> +<a name="image-0003"><!--IMG--></a> +<center> +<img src="images/sig-3.png" width="400" height="275" +alt="Miss Alice Wing, +(of the Inner Sisterhood.)" /> +</center> + + + +<a name="h2H_4_0005" id="h2H_4_0005"><!-- H2 anchor --></a> +<div style="height: 4em;"><br /><br /><br /><br /></div> +<hr /> +<h2> +IV +</h2> +<p class="title"> +The Cool Quiet Flirtatious Underglow <br /> +Of a Green Opal. +</p> +<hr /> + +<div style="height: 4em;"><br /><br /><br /><br /></div> + +<h2 style="font-family: sans-serif; font-variant: small-caps;"> +<span style="font-size: 150%;">F</span>lirting for <span style="font-size: 150%;">R</span>evenue <span style="font-size: 150%;">O</span>nly +</h2> +<p> +<span style="font-variant: small-caps;"><span style="font-size: 175%;">I</span> am</span> a Private Corporation. +</p> +<p> +My capital stock is a pretty face, a clear head, and pleasant manners. +</p> +<p> +I was incorporated by the "social legislature" four winters ago. Mamma +was the active, successful lobbyist. My father was the silent, financial +lever absolutely necessary for the passage of the bill—opposition +small. +</p> +<p> +The social Banking-House (our residence), on a fashionable avenue, had +been erected years before. A great mass of brick and mortar—stone-front +of course—not beautiful, but imposing. It was left unfurnished—a +portion of it—until I was ready to start in upon my social career. That +is quite a usual plan with people who are prospectively fashionable. +They do nothing with the drawing-room, library, and reception-room until +the daughter of the house is pronounced ready. The plastering, after a +dry of eighteen years, has had plenty of time to settle, and is not apt +to crack the costly papers or ruin the elaborate frescoes; and the +wood-work no longer in danger of warping or opening too much. +</p> +<p> +My incorporation was an event. Business at once set in, and, with slight +fluctuations, has continued ever since brisk and healthful. The venture +has been a decided success. The constant, untiring skill of mamma, and +the valuable experience of each gay season has enabled me to frequently +increase the capital stock. For my face is more pretty than it was four +years ago, and my manners are more easy and pleasing. Mamma says manners +are every thing—and they are a great deal. I have grown to be somewhat +of a woman of the world. I have met so many new people—strangers from +all parts of the earth! I have been every where, and done so much. There +is nothing local about me! Some people say that I am all things to all +men; perhaps I am, for if I am not <i>broad</i> I am not any thing. I +abhor narrow-mindedness! I am a trifle fraudulent in a harmless way, +which I am free to confess is more than a trifle fascinating to most of +the men I know. I smile, make eyes, sometimes sigh, and with many +devices coax the masculine fancy into life, and for my sake. Yet, +withal, I am said to be conscientious—very, in fact, and never +intentionally deceive. My reputation is better, alas! than I deserve. My +network is invisible but effectual; my weaving-power artless, but it is +the art concealing the artful. +</p> +<p> +I am a Private Corporation! Therefore, I own all the stock. I constantly +make loans, but I never sell. The collateral—either the many shades of +love or the subtle changes of friendship—must be A No. 1 in every +respect. It is <i>collateral</i>, not indorsements which I require. +Paper not able to sustain itself is not considered worth much in my +Banking-House (social). +</p> +<p> +It is my sweet expectation to retire from business whenever I chance to +find—or rather when I am found—by the right purchaser. I often long +for that time; I often picture to myself the undoubted delights of a +domestic life, and—but in the meantime I carry on a carefully perfected +system of +</p> +<p style="text-indent: 0em; text-align: center; font-weight: bold; font-size: 130%;"> + Flirting for Revenue Only. +</p> +<p style="text-indent: 0em;"> +That is my long-chosen motto, from which I do not depart. A Private +Corporation must have protection! Self-preservation is the first +consideration, the first law. I am full of little formulas of both +manner and speech—they afford me ample protection. Make-talk is the +complete salvation of the female Banker (social). I never disdain the +use of a <i>promoter</i>, no matter how trivial it may be. <i>Promoters</i> +help you to float heavy, stupid men, and save you from a complete wreck +on the shores of stupidity; and they act as most excellent elicitors +when applied to clever men—draw out the very best in them. I have +<i>promoters</i> and <i>promoters</i>. I was asked not long since to give my +definition or receipt of this valuable article. This was the one which +I gave: Take some tangible object visible to the eye; for instance, a +banjo. Attract attention to it in some successful way. Talk first about +the banjo itself (the promoter), then if the man is clever he will, +unconsciously, be <i>led up</i> from a discussion of that or other +musical instruments to a chat on music, ballads, operas, in fact the +very best he has to tell, the best he happens to know on that subject. +In this way we are able to rise above the trivial, worn topics of the +day—the usual make-talk of the multitude. I am always very happy in the +selection of my <i>promoters</i>. I may not be very original, but I am +quick to appropriate new ideas. I rapidly get them into the line of +march, ready for immediate use. +</p> +<p> +To be a "social success" one must be something of an actress. Men +usually expect a vast amount of acting from young women, who will, +if they are discreet, certainly live up to that expectation. Men are +willing to be deceived, but it must not be a labeled deceit. I go down +the street and meet Mr. Seyhmoor; although I see him a block off, and +before he sees me, yet I affect great surprise when he greets me—a +little start is quite effective. The trifling little deception floods +my face with color, which comes almost at my command. It easily flashes +upon him that I am indeed surprised, and betrayed into an expression of +my delight. He is flattered. He joins me. A batch of envious women watch +my little triumph. <i>That</i> is +</p> +<p style="text-indent: 0em; text-align: center; font-weight: bold; font-size: 130%;"> + Flirting for Revenue Only. +</p> +<p style="text-indent: 0em;"> +Then a walk down the street, a talk of mere wordy nothings, but of deep +and tender looks. In point of words, a make-talk affair; in point of +feeling, a vague shadowy suggestion of twenty delicious possibilities; +in point of fact a walk without any serious results. Calburt Young, a +fascinating man-about-town, a semi-Bohemian, joins me at a fashionable +ball. He takes me away from the dancing-room (and the other men), for +Bohemians never dance. He finds, as only he can, some quiet unoccupied +nook, a little out of the way, and yet a very proper place. An effective +spot environed by flowers, and palms broad and graceful, hung with +dimly-lighted, richly-colored lanterns—where you may see but not be +seen, where you may hear the gayety and yet by it not be disturbed. +Music from the ball-room reaches me, and a delicate oriental perfume +fills the air. Calburt Young, handsome, silent, with a look of earnest +appeal on his face, looks down into mine. Not the man, but his manner, +the situation, the music, the stealthy, intoxicating odor of perfume +and flowers, the sway of each tropical leaf, the distant gayety, all +surcharge my soul; gratify to the fullest extent my sensuous nature—my +love of the picturesque and the luxurious. The temptation is strong to +depart from my fixed principle. But I do not yield. I half extend my +ungloved hand, white and ringless, murmur in a low voice suggestive of +suppressed emotion, "You are very good to me! I was tired; I am glad +to have this rest—and with you, Mr. Young!" +</p> +<p> +I am permeated with the deliciousness of the situation! I am conscious +of the magnetic something about me, drawing him near to me! I can almost +feel his hot, quick breath on my cheek where the color comes and goes. +He is within my power! But I do not love him. With an effort I banish +the tender manner. My voice, now a trifle cold, asserts itself in clear, +even tones: "Let us return; I am rested now. Mr. Seyhmoor claims me for +the next dance!" +</p> +<p> +The spell is broken! Calburt Young does not understand! He is wise, but +I—I am a woman, and a woman of the world. But he does not reproach me. +How can he? I have not allowed him to say a word of love to me. I have +been environed not only with flowers, colored lights, and sweet music, +but also with the harmless platitudes of speech. I whirl away into the +dance with Henry Seyhmoor! I have been boldly flirting, +</p> +<p style="text-indent: 0em; text-align: center; font-weight: bold; font-size: 130%;"> + Flirting for Revenue Only. +</p> +<p style="text-indent: 0em;"> +Sometimes I am not so successful in this avoidance of exactly what I +have skillfully brought out. Sometimes this policy leads to a proposal. +The tide grows too strong. The man breaks down the barrier, but what +good does it do? I have maintained a high protective tariff; there is +nothing tangible which he can produce against me; there is never any +thing which he can <i>say</i> against me; and if I have been ordinarily +skillful and cautious there is absolutely nothing for him to +<i>think</i>, but "How good she has been to me; how delicately, +tenderly, she has tried to avoid giving me pain!" +</p> +<p> +At the start, my first season out, it was a hard policy to follow, and I +would often spend a sleepless hour, after the man had said "good-night!" +But those foolish old days have gone, and with them the early freshness +of my youth, although the <i>appearance</i> remains. I have seen so many +men promptly revive beneath the showers of another woman's glance +and of another woman's tender—perhaps like mine—unmeant words, mere +platitudes, platitudes effectual, intangible. They are not sufficient +proof in any court of conscience, law, or public opinion. They are the +glorious privileges of a woman who is a Private Corporation, +</p> +<p style="text-indent: 0em; text-align: center; font-weight: bold; font-size: 130%;"> + Flirting for Revenue Only. +</p> +<p> +Robert Fairfield! There is a magic something in the very name itself. +And the man! ah, after all, old things are best. My heart never knew a +sensation—the quick, throbbing something which we call <i>love</i>—until +I met him, when hardly more than a school-girl. It was my first winter! +He was young, attractive, somewhat wild, and quite the <i>fashion</i> +that year, and in fact ever since. He is a dainty love-maker. He is +ready with a hundred delicate little attentions unknown to most men, +and highly gratifying to most women. But after all their influence is +limited—at least with me. His actual presence is necessary. Mamma +opposed the match—for we were engaged (never announced) at one time. +She always disliked him, and on that one subject has always been +unreasonable. But she has more influence over me than he has, or ever +could have. She can generally eradicate the dangerous effects of his +presence. This he resented—and rightly. I must renounce mother, home, +every thing, and come to him, or—I must cling to him and let all other +things go. He recognized no middle course; I constantly sought one. I +put him off; I made him many promised, and meant them all—when with +him. Finally he was forbidden the house, and now we barely more than +speak. He is somewhat devoted to a half dozen or more of our best young +women, and they are all more or less devoted to him. The world—-our +little world—once said we would marry; but the world has decided that +it was, mistaken, and that we did not even love one another. And did we, +or not? In short, do we? +</p> +<p> +There are times, moments of despondency, more frequent here of late, +when something within whispers, "You are waiting too long! You are, +indeed, far above par, but will it last?" +</p> +<p> +The credit of my Banking-House (social) is apparently without limit. My +pretty face stands well the wear and tear of hard social work. My worst +female enemy dares not call me <i>passe</i> in the slightest degree, +although I am a shade beyond the uncertain age of twenty-five. But +surely these strange premonitions must come as a warning. They surely +mean something. My womanly intuition—and it can be trusted—plainly +prompts me to give up this dangerous, ruinous policy of +</p> +<p style="text-indent: 0em; text-align: center; font-weight: bold; font-size: 130%;"> + Flirting for Revenue Only. +</p> +<p style="text-indent: 0em;"> +I must abandon my little formulas of speech and manners. I must quit +making eyes. I must grant myself a pause in this social farce. I must +try to let myself love the man whom my <i>real honest self</i> hath +chosen years ago. The man I drove from my door for the sake of +<i>general revenue</i>. The man against whom I closed my heart! But will +he come back again? Will his proud spirit brook an uncertainty? But, +after all, is it <i>well worth</i>, the while? Those are uncertain +questions—I dismiss them. There is no immediate danger. My humor +changes; I am no longer despondent. Away with Doubtful Uncertainty and +all of his stale retinue, tricked out in danger-signals—each a false +one. Sleep on, sweet Conscience, sleep on! To-night the +wedding-reception—given to a woman married for her money! Another +glorious opportunity for me! +</p> +<p> +<b>A.B.</b> <i>I may be found any time between the hours of nine and +one, on the crowded stair, in a nook beneath, in the dancing-room, +or—somewhere about the flower-decked house in my accustomed capacity of +Private Corporation, skillfully, successfully</i> +</p> +<p style="text-indent: 0em; text-align: center; font-weight: bold; font-size: 130%;"> + Flirting for Revenue Only. +</p> +<a name="image-0004"><!--IMG--></a> +<center> +<img src="images/sig-4.png" width="401" height="123" +alt="Miss Rose Clendennin, +(of the Inner Sisterhood.)" /> +</center> + + +<a name="h2H_4_0006" id="h2H_4_0006"><!-- H2 anchor --></a> +<div style="height: 4em;"><br /><br /><br /><br /></div> +<hr /> +<h2> +V +</h2> +<p class="title"> +A Symphony in Pink <br /> +With Philistine Traces. +</p> +<hr /> +<div style="height: 4em;"><br /><br /><br /><br /></div> +<h2 style="font-family: sans-serif;"> +Mother and Daughter. +</h2> +<p> +<span style="font-variant: small-caps;"><span style="font-size: 175%;">W</span>e</span> +are not on good terms, mamma and I, She is hard, exacting, +unreasonable; she is proud, ambitious, worldly; she is deeply embittered +against me because I am not a social success, because I am not +brilliant, attractive. Her one thought, by day and by night, has been +the promotion of my interests—from her own selfish standpoint. I am +never consulted—always ignored, and my feelings trampled upon. My +slightest objection fills her with indignant surprise, and is met with a +prompt rebuke and a <i>dictum</i>, from which there is absolutely no +appeal. Always unwilling, yet always obedient—passively obedient. +</p> +<p> +This is my third winter out and, to quote mamma, no prospects, no +prospects! Of course, I am nothing of a belle, nothing of a social +queen among women. This is a source of endless mortification to mamma. +But there is no reason why it should be so, because a belle in this +town is a lost art. Lost in the days of the brilliant Bettie V. and the +beautiful Alice B. Nowadays belleship is like statesmanship, the honors +are divided. We have plenty of real pretty women, but no startling +beauties. There is not a girl in my set but who is fully up to the +average in appearance, manners, mind. Competition may do well enough for +trade, but it does not produce any one reigning belle in social circles. +So I am not entirely to blame; the causes which work against me also +work against others. I go to the utmost limit, and sometimes beyond. +I do every thing which my better nature will license—often a great +deal besides. My opportunities are excellent. I am invited every where, +because we belong to a highly respectable and somewhat ancient family +(we have a beautiful family-tree, <i>arranged</i> by mamma before I was +grown); and I go every where, even when I am forced to go with papa, +which, I am glad to say, is never more than twice in one season. +</p> +<p> +Papa is really a dear, good man. He has not only the love but also +the pity of a devoted daughter, for he does have such a hard time +with mamma. While he understands perfectly all about making money, +and just lots of it, too, yet, <i>papa does not shine</i> in mamma's +fashionable circle. He is a slave to her slightest whim—and she is +full of them. He is ready, and always, to do her most capricious +bidding. Yet they are not congenial; I am positive she never loved +him. He was, even when they married, counted among the rich men of +the community. And she—she was the youngest child in a large family, +with high notions and small income. But he is devoted to her! She +may not be lovable, but she is magnetic. She forces homage from all, +devotion from many. But she is an evil magnet; and she is conscious +of her power, which she wields in a high-handed and a most unscrupulous +manner. Unlike most women of the fashionable world, she makes a decided +point of poor papa's attendance. He must always go with her—and he +does. Often he comes to his home tired out, worn down to the very +quick—making money he calls it—and mamma, fresh and ready, eager for +the social battle which, like a war-horse, she scents from afar, drags +him out with her—somewhere—generally, when there is nothing more +exciting on hand, across the way to that bric-a-brac-shop of a house, +where the tawdry elegant, always weary Mrs. Babbington Brooks holds +forth in an ultra-æsthetic style peculiarly her own. There they spend +the entire evening in what mamma softly calls "a sweet communion of +congenial souls," which, being translated according to methods of the +earth, earthy, means simply a tiresome time over cards, the constant +sipping of a pale pink stuff which foams—dissipated looking, but +harmless. This they drink out of dainty little cups somewhat larger than +a thimble. "Fragile art gems," to quote Mrs. Babbington Brooks, "which I +was so wildly fortunate as to find in a curiously jolly shop somewhere +about Venice, the last time I was over on the other side. Ah! how I do +love Venice!" +</p> +<p> +Now, there is a fair sample of that woman's talk; it is a mystery to me +how she keeps it up. Mamma says that she is "wierdly picturesque;" papa +says (but only to me) that she is "a regular downright fool." But they +are both wrong; she is a woman with a sufficient amount of brains to +know just how easily and successfully so-called sensible people may be +imposed upon; and how readily they can be made use of—stepping stones +to the accomplishment of selfish desires. But she does not fool mamma. +They both use one another to advantage. There is always between them a +tacit little arrangement. Mrs. Babbington Brooks never stops short of +a positive sensation. Her methods are bold, startling, successful. Her +husband, an insignificant looking man, invented something, an air-brake +for railway trains, an improvement on the Westinghouse air-brake, +"Brooks' Unbroken Circuit." This, after years of obscure struggling, +brought them into immediate wealth, but not at once into social notice. +Their first efforts in that direction, or rather, <i>her</i> first +efforts, were complete failures. They nibbled about on the outer edge; +finally, it dawned upon her to play some decided role. She determined to +be an æsthete. She built a house accordingly; she dressed accordingly; +and she acted, but above all, she talked accordingly. Thanks to her +wandering brother, an ideal American adventurer, she obtained from +London, far ahead of the general importation, a complete outfit of +Lilies, Languors, Yearnings, Reachings-out, Poppies, Wasted Passions, +Platonics, Heart-throbs, and all the more lately approved instruments of +æsthetic torture. Her establishment was ready. She wanted recognition. +She waited for an opportune moment. It came. Oscar Wilde, the apostle +in chief of the æsthetic school, reached our shores. He brought a letter +of introduction "To the one æsthete in all America, Mrs. Babbington +Brooks." On his arrival he sent her this letter, and with it a note, +written in a full, round hand, stating that he would be at her service +after his lecture in her town, on the eighteenth of the coming February, +and, being it was she, his terms were only three hundred dollars; usual +price, five hundred. She wired an eager acceptance of his generous +offer, and at once set her household in readiness. She invited the +town—the fashionable, so-called desirable portion of it—and waited the +issue. Her gilded net was well spread; her bait irresistible. She easily +caught them all, large and small; her house was crowded; her effort a +recognized masterpiece. Mamma says she could have readily made +arrangements with Oscar Wilde for a season in London—a female æsthete, +and from the crude land of America! Now, she is actually quite the rage! +Her triumph is now complete; her following large, composed of a batch of +deluded fools, caught by the glamour and the blow of brazen trumpets, +with just the <i>tincture</i> of an artistic principle. +</p> +<p> +A large amount of money was spent on my educational training, both at +home and abroad. A young woman who can play a little, sing in fairly +good voice a few pretty songs, popular ballads, and paint an occasional +plaque, or even rise to the dignity of a panel, can surely make claim to +the free chromo distribution of that flattering term, "most highly +accomplished." +</p> +<p> +I was systematically advertised—by mamma—for about four years prior +to my <i>debut</i>. Every body was made to know that I was "growing up" +rapidly, "coming on," but still young, "oh, very young, and cares +absolutely nothing about men." Fact: cared more then than I do now. +Young fellows—available matches—would be invited out "very informally +indeed," to dinner or to tea, "would just drop in, you know," each +occasion skillfully planned by mamma. She is an excellent +manager—always manages to have her own way. On each one of these +occasions it was so arranged that they would catch a glimpse of +me—supposed to be entirely accidental. I was made to pose for the +occasion over my books or fancy-work. I was "so studious!" or "so +skillful with my needle!"—running comment by mamma during the +<i>accidental</i> glimpse of her darling daughter. These things are +always effective, for mamma is really an artistic woman. Her social +villainy fascinates me into a constant state of acquiescence. There is +an irresistible glamour, there is a touch of his Satanic majesty which +gains me, against my will, body and soul. She is a bad, dangerous woman. +What an awful idea to have of my own mother! but, fortunately, other +people don't know her as we do—papa and I. +</p> +<p> +But after all the constant planning, the education with trimmings, the +high art dressing, the effective situations without number, in short, +the whole broad system of skillful social advertising, I am not the one +magnet-point; I am not the belle of the town. This has caused the breach +between us; and it grows wider every day. Mamma used to be unkind, but +now she is cruel. Those uncertain social honors can never be mine; +therefore a reconciliation is out of the question. Men come to the +house frequently and in fair numbers, but frequent and merely polite +attentions do not satisfy mamma. I have never had a real lover. Men seem +to like me well enough; they send me flowers, take me out, and do not +let me suffer at balls or parties for want of attention. But they do not +make love or ask me the all—important question, "Will you be my wife?" +This confession would surprise most people. My name is constantly +mentioned in a tender way with some one man of my acquaintance, but +there is never any thing beyond the mention. +</p> +<p> +During the past winter mamma has been trying a new plan. She has +determined to marry me off, having proved to be such worthless material +for the make up of a reigning belle. She has made earnest, successful +effort to induce a batch of clever young lawyers into a frequent and +regular attendance at the house, under pretext of a quasi-ideal Literary +Association. A wise bait, which always ensnares the eager-nibbling +lawyer. It <i>sounds well</i> to have people say that he is a gifted +young lawyer and a member of a most delightful and highly select +literary association—and the average young lawyer acknowledges a +fondness—inexpensive, of course—for all things which <i>sound well</i>; +the legal mind bows down before the mighty shrine of "Euphony." +</p> +<p> +Any thing can be readily organized in this town, but to keep it going is +a different matter and a desperate hard thing to do after the novelty +wears off. But mamma seldom allows any of her organizations to die a +natural death. Her present venture, of a literary nature, is thriving; +it has grown to be the idle fashion of the social hour. Mamma alternates +with her always coadjutor, Mrs. Babbington Brooks, in entertaining the +motley, and somewhat cultured crowd. Mamma, First Director and Chief +Manager; Mrs. Babbington Brooks, Second Director and Most Worthy +Assistant. This "Culture-Seeking Club" (its name) has been organized, +mamma says, on my account. It is her last effort in my behalf. She has +always opposed the idea of my forming an alliance with a poor, petty +young lawyer; but she has grown desperate, and organized this club in +order that I might, or rather she, angle for some rising young barrister +with brains, and a promise of something better than the usual +fulfillment—poverty. It is a positive tragedy, this being calculatingly +thrown at the head of a so-called desirable young man! +</p> +<p> +Nominally I am a member of the "Culture-Seeking Club," but actually +and at heart I am a Philistine out and out. This pernicious high-art +and culture-seeking fever has never caught my practical soul in its +relentless grasp. I love not the ways of the social æsthete. Gleams +and shadows do not thrill me; sunflowers and daisies do not gratify my +hungry soul—or self. Mamma says I am not sufficiently clever to tempt +the brainy monster, <i>i.e.</i>, Culture Fiend. She has taken me in +hand; I am to play a role also. She has a strange power over me which I +am unable to withstand. It is the fatal power which a strong mind gets +over the more weak and readily yielding mind incapable of a successful +resistance. She is a woman with a bad heart and a clear head. I am +irresolute, full of most excellent intentions, and in effect as bad as +she without the redeeming features of extraordinary cleverness. I am to +play the role of a young maiden with an object in life. I am to be full +of a new desire to grapple with the weighty problems of the moment. I am +to be carefully coached for each club meeting; I am to be veneered with +a thin skin of glittering knowledge. I am, indeed, bewildered, startled. +I am made to read all of the book notices worth the reading. I am made +to pore over a half dozen reviews which people in this town know +absolutely nothing about—although they do call mamma the "Pioneer +introducer of good Periodicals." I am superficial, but she is not. She +reads each good book itself, not the criticism only. She reads it +carefully, thoroughly, as few other people ever do. Then she gives me a +special line of thought to follow, and I am made to go through a little +combination of what I have read and of that which she has told me in her +direct, compact manner. Thus does she enable me to produce a written +paper which never fails to start the "Culture-Seeking Club" into a +little flutter of supposed intellectual excitement. For a moment, at +least, I am forgotten, or, if remembered at all, they say to one another +as they sip that everlasting pale pink foam out of the "dainty art gems +from Venice, you know:" "Ah, Sophia Gilder is her more clever mamma's +own daughter; but, alas! she will never be such a woman as her +mother—the gifted Mrs. John Robert Gilder, the life and soul of our +Culture-Seeking Club!" And I piously hope to heaven that I may be saved +from such a fate, and never be the woman that I know mamma to be! +</p> +<p> +My last effort was said to be a wild, jagged thing—a reaching out, a +groping after. It was called "Souls Antagonistic: A Symphony." I wore an +especial costume—"suited to the subject," said mamma. "A sweet poem of +a gown," echoed Mrs. Babbington Brooks. When I finished my task, for it +was a task, and imposed by a hard task-master, Mrs. Brooks glided, like +the serpent she is, over to my seat and looked down with a false longing +into my flushed face. Then in a low, somewhat musical voice, full of a +false tenderness and a borrowed pathos, "May I, sweet young girl, touch +with mine the precious lips which to-night have made exceeding glad my +sad, sad soul with those wise and honeyed words?" She kissed me. I +fairly trembled with an intense loathing. That oily-tongued creature +hates me with a deadly hatred. And she fears me, for she knows that I +have found her out and know her to be what she is, a most <i>successful +fashionable fraud</i>. But it is folly to run counter to the social +current. It is best to hold my peace. It is hard to do, but it can be, +and it must be done. I was nervous—rebellious. I quickly fled away from +that false woman and her loathsome caress. I sought rest and quiet in a +distant cushioned corner of the deserted hallway. I was angry—too angry +for tears. I buried my throbbing head in my hands and tried to forget my +miserable existence; it was such a failure. It was so unlike that which +I wished it to be, and yet I did not have the will-power to make it so. +I was in one of my morbid moods. Resolutions I knew to be useless. On +the morrow they would be broken. It was always, and I fear ever will be +"Mother and Daughter;" never "Daughter and Mother." She always takes the +lead, and I, always weak enough to follow. Was there no one to whom I +could turn? No one to yield me a few kindly words to strengthen me for +that constant, useless warfare against, yes, against my own mother? +</p> +<p> +As if in answer to my silent call, a footstep! My hands dropped into my +lap. A man stood near. I did not look up; I knew who he was. We need +hear but once the footfall of certain people and always after know +instantly if they are near. A voice: "Miss Gilder, do I intrude?" +</p> +<p> +Robert Fairfield is not a man of many words. He stood by me in an +attitude of <i>sympathetic silence</i>. He made to me an unspoken +appeal. In my heart there was a grateful answer. A sad, smileless face +was uplifted, and then my lips also gave answer. It was a brief story. +It was my daily life of home oppression. But it was not briefly told. It +ought not have been told at all; but I am human, so human. The time had +reached me when somebody <i>must know</i>, and the time had brought with +it into my sorrowful presence this same Robert Fairfield. I had barely +known him. An accidental introduction, a few dances at a ball, and +once—just once—a brief but serious talk at a summer-night concert. I +was nothing to him; he was every thing to me; I loved him, I love him. +But custom, and rightly, too, keeps a woman silent. He may know the +story of my miserable home life, but he does not know—and he must never +know—of the magnetic power which drew me toward him, made me tell my +story, and left me with a regret and a tenderness which has closed my +heart to any other who may chance to come. +</p> +<a name="image-0005"><!--IMG--></a> +<center> +<img src="images/sig-5.png" width="399" height="122" +alt="Miss Sophia Gilder, +(of the Inner Sisterhood.)" /> +</center> + + +<a name="h2H_4_0007" id="h2H_4_0007"><!-- H2 anchor --></a> +<div style="height: 4em;"><br /><br /><br /><br /></div> +<hr /> +<h2> +VI +</h2> +<p class="title"> +A Cold Gray Study. +</p> +<hr /> +<div style="height: 4em;"><br /><br /><br /><br /></div> +<h2 style="font-family: serif;"> +A CASE OF COMPOUND FRACTURE. +</h2> +<p> +<span style="font-size: 175%; font-family: sans-serif;">F</span>amily Position, Wealth, and Personal Beauty are potent factors in the +mysterious make-up of a social success, but they are not omnipotent. +A woman may have this desirable trinity, and yet be as nothing in the +social world. In fact, she may be without one, two, or all three, and +yet achieve unaccountable success in a social way. +</p> +<p> +My first winter out was a flat failure. I did not lack wealth and family +position, but I was awkward and not beautiful; in short, ugly. But my +failure was not due to this lack of beauty, for other women far more +ugly than I outshone me in every way. <i>I did not know myself</i>. +There is the key to many a mystery. I tried to be like other women +and—failed. I had a little individuality of my own, but for a time did +not know it. +</p> +<p> +During that formative period I had one love-affair; at least, I did the +loving and Gerome Meadows did the "affair," for with him it was nothing +more. He was a man just a trifle above the average in looks and manners, +intellect—every thing. He was always attractive and agreeable. He was +always making a graceful effort to please, and He was—with me—always +successful. He was four and twenty, yet he was a genuine boy. He was +full of a boy's love and full of a boy's charming susceptibility. He was +responsive to the different natures of many women. He was peculiarly a +loveable man. He had diligently, conscientiously courted a goodly number +of these different natured women; and they all had, at some one time, a +tender leaning toward, without a positive love for, this Gerome Meadows. +I am one of the number. Twice has he courted me, and twice have I +refused him. First, because <i>he</i> did not love me; second, because +<i>I</i> did not love him. +</p> +<p> +It was during that formative period when first he came, <i>sent by his +mother</i>. She was a wise woman, who selected mates for her always +obedient children. It was an honor to be selected—so she thought. A +sacrifice—so considered by the unselected. +</p> +<p> +Gerome had for me somewhat of a circumstantial love. We had always known +one another. We had been constantly thrown together. It would have been +a pre-eminently proper arrangement. It would have been the alliance of +the two influential and wealthy families. Therefore, his mother wished +it and ordered it to be so. But an unexpected disappointment awaited her +honorable ladyship. It had not occurred to her that a woman could be so +foolish, so neglectful of her own interests and of her own happiness, +as to refuse in marriage the hand of her precious son. My evident +hesitation—for at heart I loved him—surprised and somewhat alarmed +her. I was invited to dine with the family. I was treated as a +prospective member. With the soup, the fish, and the heavy meats, they +dealt out the virtues of their Gerome, seriously and earnestly. With the +sweetmeats and the coffee they smilingly touched upon his lightest and +most pardonable faults. My heart trembled for its safety. It was a well +planned effective process. That night he told me of his love with the +air of a man who fully expects a warm response and affirmative answer. +Both were bravely denied him. I told him that he was mistaken; I told +him he did not, and never would, have for me the grand passion of his +life. He said—what else could he say?—"You are wrong; you deeply wrong +me. You are plunging my young life, hitherto so full of hope, down into +a depth of bitterness and regret from which it may never rise again!" +This was said in a tragic, somewhat stilted, but impressive manner. I +was touched; it was my first experience; it was the first time that I +had ever heard a man talk about his broken, blasted hopes and his empty, +ruined life. But it is all a very old story now. I know just how much to +believe—in truth, precious little. Nothing dulls the edge of a woman's +sensibilities more quickly than frequent proposals. His rejection was a +relief to Gerome; he was tired of making love to women especially +selected by his mother; he did not fancy the process. Thus far he had +always been unsuccessful. I had told him no—but, womanlike, I did not +mean it; I did not want him to go out of my life. In a vague way I was +conscious of a desire to win his love, but it was during my social +formative period when every thing was vague. I was unconscious of my +power, yet I did not know how to accomplish my end. So Gerome left me. I +was unable to keep him. But, somehow, I did not consider it a finality; +it was simply an awkward pause. I hoped for his return and a renewal of +his protestations. I had heard women say that if a man really cared for +a woman he would easily brook the first refusal and speedily return. So +I thought, but I was mistaken; he did not return. +</p> +<p> +Two moons had not waxed and waned before he was having what now I am +sure must have been the one passionate love of his life. This was +unexpected; a blow in the dark to my pride, and, alas! I fear, also, to +my heart. It was the death-knell to my better nature. It gave direction +to the formation of my social life. From that moment I am conscious of +a change, and for the worse, in my hitherto attractive nature. It was +attractive on account of its sweetness and its purity. It was a nature +which, until then, had known nothing of the hot, passionate love of the +world and of all things worldly. The formative period was gone, and with +it most that was good. +</p> +<p> +It was hard to have a man court me, not exactly for my money, but +because I chanced to be the nearest fruit in reach and because his +crafty mother thought it would be an excellent arrangement! Especially +hard, because in spite of myself I had for him a very tender feeling. +My sudden loss and quick appropriation by another created within me an +unjust resentment; my resentment was silent and unnoticed, but it filled +me with a desire for revenge. This was the evil which crept into my +life; this was the element which warped my better nature, made me +grasping, worldly, hard to please. This sudden desertion placed me in +a false position. People said that Gerome had never loved me—simply +trifling. The friends of that <i>other woman</i>, a great brown-eyed +beauty with the subtle charm and fatal fascination of a devil most +lovely, made it appear that of course Gerome Meadows had never loved +me—why should he? He cowardly held his peace and let them prattle; he +was kneeling low before the shrine of his own selection; he was in open +rebellion against his irate mother, who did not approve of this +brown-eyed beauty. +</p> +<p> +I was left alone and let alone. But fate was not altogether against +me. Death did me a friendly service. He called to her last resting-place +an ancient dame who had severely played the role of grandmother and +mother-in-law in our large establishment—unloved, tyrannical, +unregretted. But custom bade us mourn. Then was my opportunity. Our +doors were closed, but I was not idle—<i>I studied myself</i>, and, +retrospectively, all of my friends. After several months of hard +training and much serious thought I found myself ready. I had +established my little theories about life, and their intricate relations +to myself, and cast about carefully for something upon which I might +with safety and good results practice upon. Most of my friends were +tame, uninteresting, and none of them just then my lovers. I resorted to +many of the little airs and tricks of social trade. I soon found myself +doing quite a brisk little business in a quiet way; quite quiet, for +I still wore light mourning and, of course, was not going out; we all +thought it best to pay the highest possible respect to the late but +unlamented grandmother. I soon gained the reputation—which I bravely +sustained—of being far above the idle, cruel dealer in human hearts; I +was said to be full of old-fashioned coquetry, but not even flirtatious; +that I was gracious, had pleasing manners, but was the very soul of +sincerity, and would never be guilty of leading men on and on. I was +frequently contrasted with that devilish brown-eyed beauty—a recognized +flirt, ready to sacrifice any man on her crowded altar. A man once said +to me of her: +</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i2"> "Such kings of shreds have wooed and won her, </p> +<p class="i4"> Such crafty knaves her laurel owned, </p> +<p class="i2"> It has become almost an honor </p> +<p class="i4"> Not to be crowned." </p> +</div> +</div> + +<p> +"Hush! hush! she is my friend," I said, for I knew him to be one of +her rejected lovers. In a month I had gently told him nay. But he was +innocent, he did not know that I had played my cards for him. He thought +me cold, but he thought me kind. He advertised me in desirable places +and with most desirable people. I captivated several other desirable +men. It is so easy for a woman to fool a man. But I was eager to try +my powers on better metal—some man of the world. A victory in such a +quarter would fully establish me, and it would bring the very best men +to my side, for they, like sheep, readily follow the well-known leader. +And perhaps—Gerome might return. +</p> +<p> +One winter's night late, after I had gone to my room, two men called. +Ordinarily I should have excused myself, but something—we call it fate, +I believe—prompted me to see them. One was an old friend—a friend of +the family. The other a thorough man of the world, and—I knew it +intuitively—my desired victim. He was an idle, indifferent, Social +Drifter. He was an artist by profession; his inclination—and his +leisure—made him more of a <i>diletante</i> than any thing else. He was +more notorious than famous. He had done nothing to give himself fame, +but he had done many odd things which gave him notoriety. I have always +had a secret but deep-rooted love of notoriety; it makes my blood tingle +with a most delicious sensation. I knew that he could give me a great +deal of <i>quiet notoriety</i> which was the one thing needed to make me +a success—notice, notice, constant notice! The surgeon may be ever so +skillful and yet if his skill be not known his instruments, rusted with +disuse, will cling to their unopened cases and his hand will forget its +cunning. So is it with the flirtatious maiden; she must hang forth a +sign which may be read, and quickly, even by those who run. +</p> +<p> +My artist lover was not the ideal slender, pale-faced youth; he was not +beautiful, he was not good looking. But perhaps I should have loved him +if he had been the one, and tolerated him longer if he had been the +other. He was aggressive; he was open, direct always; he was not blunt, +yet he was free from the all-prevalent use of the <i>preliminary</i>. +He loved me! And he very soon told me as much and more. He made no +concealment of the fact to me, or indeed to others. He loved me, was +proud of it, and glad to have all know of it. Of course this was just +what I wanted, for he was not a susceptible man. He had not been in love +for years. His declarations meant something, and people knew it. Thus +was I brought into notice. "Who, pray, is this Mary Lee Manley?" they +began to ask. "Is she the same scrawny, ugly girl who was such a flat +failure in society two years ago?" "What has she done to herself? She +is certainly not a beauty but she has improved, just how we are unable +to say." +</p> +<p> +The men began to find me, hunted me up, and were unable to realize that +I was that self same individual whom they had so diligently avoided +her first season out. All the while my affair went on, systematically +artistic, with that Social Drifter. No man will ever love me again +as I was loved by that man. I wantonly played with his openly avowed +affections. I was deliberate, artistic. I was cold. I led him on +blindly. I calculated every move with mathematical accuracy. I left +nothing undone. I skillfully covered my tracks. I always told him sadly, +gently, that I did not love him, and that I never could. Yet I told him +in such a manner that, almost breathless with a new hope, he refused to +believe me, refused to listen. He was always considerate and I hated him +for his consideration. He was always thoughtful, unselfish, and alas, +always loving. Finally, after I had successfully played him for all +that he was worth—which was a great deal to me—I told him to go. I +dismissed him with scorn and without reason. Of course there had been no +love in my heart for this man, but his delicate attentions were always +intensely flattering. And once, just once, I might have yielded, but +my family, my own judgment, every thing, was against the man, and to +the end he continued to be simply a trial for my untried and newly +discovered powers. And then, perhaps the more potent reason of all, +Gerome Meadows gave uneasy indications of a desire to return. I, and +immediately, made arrangements for the full gratification of his desire. +Now was my chance. Revenge, when delayed, is all the sweeter for the +delay. The world must know of my power, and through Gerome Meadows! I +had waited long and patiently, but I had not wasted my time. I had gone +through a severe social training, and with the best results. I was an +accomplished flirt, but I was not trammeled by the always dangerous +reputation—it was not known. It was simply a rumor about town that I +might be somewhat of a trifler, but it had not been affirmed, and few +believed the idle, unauthorized rumor; it had not even reached the ears +of Gerome Meadows. He had hotly quarreled with his devilish, brown-eyed +beauty. She had dismissed him after a highly tragic scene. The details +were highly sensational—as told by her devoted partizans, and warmly +denied by his and his outraged family (principally irate mother). They +sound like the fragments of a romance written by Bulwer, and with a +liberal touch of Lucile. It was the talk of the town, and many things +were said, and a few were done. I was silent and hopeful. My triumph was +near! She had done with him, and forever. He did not cut his handsome +throat! He did not do any of the thrilling but uncomfortable things done +by the usual rejected lover in the average novel—<i>but he came back +to me!</i> Once more Gerome Meadows was my recognized lover, and the +people—the fickle people—began to whisper it about (greatly to my +satisfaction), that perhaps this very uncertain Mr. Meadows had always +loved me from the time his sister Kate and myself were school-girls +together. And furthermore, he had for a while yielded to the manifold +fascinations of that devilish brown-eyed beauty. In fact, he himself +told me a goodly number of just such little speeches; discoursed on the +difference between real love and mere fascination. He told me that I was +the only woman he ever could really love, and that he had for me a pure +and warm affection. Ah! how sweet were those declarations to my ear. But +not to my heart—it was closed against him. +</p> +<p> +I was not the woman he had known and halfway loved before—for I had +eagerly tasted deep and long of the Egyptian flesh-pots, and I refused +any other kind of social sustenance. I allowed him to believe that his +tardy return had routed all rivals from the field. I forced him to fancy +me to be so different from <i>that other woman</i>. I was, in truth, a +cool, quiet reaction. I coaxed him into believing me to be full of a +gentle, womanly purity. I made him blind to the fact that I was a +worldly woman, conscious of and ready to unhesitatingly use my +worldliness. I measured my powers aright—I could at my own sweet will +allow him, force him, coax him, make him <i>do any thing</i>. I cunningly +wove a web in and around the heart of Gerome Meadows—his rejected, torn +and dejected heart. I gently soothed him into not quite a forgetfulness, +yet a strong and healthful calm. He was grateful. Reactions are always +dangerous; he wondered why he had not known me before as he knew me +then. And while he wondered I charmed him into a new love fever. It was +almost a touch of real passion. It was a skillful drawing together of +the scattered ligaments of that other and violently broken love. I had +labored hard, and not altogether in vain. He was mine for the taking. +Would I take him? +</p> +<p> +We stood together late one afternoon in a rich oriel window which +overhung the street. We were silent. The rustle of the light summer +drapery filled the air with a faint but melodiously tender undertone. +We looked out of the broad open window down the street. It was near the +close of a superb summer's day. I was in a mood to yield. My old nature +seemed to rise out of its former self. It was the one golden opportunity +for the man by my side. The old tender leaning toward him came back +again, stronger, more subtle than ever before. It was—for the +while—love, or something very like unto love. My nature, my soul was at +its utmost flow, but no one touched the flood-gates. Gerome was passive, +silent. One word, a hand-touch, and I would have loved him and bound +myself to him for weal or woe! Little things are every thing in a +woman's life. Robert Fairfield passed by beneath the window; he briefly +paused, politely looked up, lifted his hat, <i>smiled</i>, and—innocent +of what he had done—went on his way. He had simply done what was the +proper and usual thing, but his conventional smile had come into my life +at a strangely opportune moment—or, was it opportune? My heart had been +laid bare, the flood-gates had been touched, and they had slowly opened +beneath the magic influence of a <i>smile</i>. Gerome Meadows had been +silent. He had lost his one golden opportunity. I told him so, and sent +him away. I fired upon him a volley of ridicule and contempt; my revenge +was complete. He was angry, surprised, disappointed. The old wounds were +torn open afresh; but he was not easily undone. He immediately made +peace with his irate mother. He placed himself in her charge. He +promised to try again, but under her direction and according to her +selection. In a few days more he goes to the altar with this new and +latest love. But, ah! Gerome, your charming, susceptible self never +loved but once! Where is that devilish brown-eyed beauty? It is well +that she is silent! One word from her and—but, go marry. And pray, take +with you my conventional wishes for your peace and happiness. On your +wedding day I will write you a dainty card and send you a trifle. +</p> +<p> +What shall it be? What would be, under the "existing circumstances," the +most appropriate thing? Perhaps a little Cupid, somewhat weather-beaten +and with an empty quiver might do, or, best of all, <i>a lock of +golden-brown hair</i> stolen from the rich, heavy tresses of that +devilish brown-eyed beauty. What say you? But <i>au revoir</i>, Gerome +Meadows. +</p> +<p> +There is to be a reception—a most elegant affair—the night of the +wedding. It is to be given by that now well-satisfied lady, Mrs. +Gillespie Meadows, the mother of my dear, dear Gerome. My escort: Robert +Fairfield. The beginning of another end! What will it be? +</p> +<a name="image-0006"><!--IMG--></a> +<center> +<img src="images/sig-6.png" width="399" height="133" +alt="Miss Mary Lee Manley, +(of the Inner Sisterhood.)" /> +</center> + + +<a name="h2H_4_0008" id="h2H_4_0008"><!-- H2 anchor --></a> +<div style="height: 4em;"><br /><br /><br /><br /></div> +<hr /> +<h2> +VII +</h2> +<p class="title"> +An Olive Outline <br /> +In Shades and Shadows <br /> +Of a Clever Social Life. +</p> +<hr /> +<div style="height: 4em;"><br /><br /><br /><br /></div> +<h2 style="font-family: serif;"> +Platitudes and Pleasures. +</h2> +<p> +<span style="font-variant: small-caps;"><span style="font-size: 175%; font-family: sans-serif;">M</span>y</span> +life is different from the usual social existence of the average +society girl. +</p> +<p> +I have never followed the mirage of a definite ideal. +</p> +<p> +I have never been a straggler for social honors—they have been mine +without the struggling. I was born to a position. It is mine by right +of inheritance. There is no strong odor of lately acquired greenbacks +about our old and very respectable establishment. We live on a quiet, +unfashionable street; we are somewhat apart from the world, and yet we +are frequently sought—for we never seek. My grandfather was a man of +excellent parts and much power in his native State. He was a well-known, +important factor in the home of his adoption. His wife was celebrated +for her ready wit and radiant beauty in the days when Madison was +President. +</p> +<p> +My father is a great man. It is not a greatness hedged in by a local +limit; he is known far and wide. His scientific researches have made him +famous and his name familiar and beloved on foreign shores. Nor is he a +prophet without honor even in his own country. +</p> +<p> +My mother is a rare woman. She is peculiarly a womanly woman. She +constantly gives her best thought, her best effort, to the members of +her family, always forgetting self; and she is full of the tenderest +consideration toward other people. She never speaks ill of her neighbor; +she is always true. She is always ready to discharge her duty—and more. +She is tender, gentle, firm; there is not a flower which blooms more +full, better rounded out, more sweet, better to look upon, or in any way +more complete, more perfect than she. +</p> +<p> +I may not be great or entirely good myself, but I constantly breathe an +atmosphere exhilarating and pure—made so by the presence of a great man +and a good woman. +</p> +<p> +Our house is the tacitly recognized head-quarters for all kinds and +conditions of clever people, and some not so clever, but who—in their +way—are just as interesting: +</p> +<p style="text-indent: 0em; text-align: right; width: 60%; margin-left: 20%;"> +Social Exquisites. <br /> +Social Drifters. <br /> +Briefless Barristers. <br /> +Men Who Have Risen. <br /> +Men Unsuccessful. <br /> +Sympathy Seekers. <br /> +Sympathy Finders. <br /> +Newspaper Reporters. <br /> +Newspaper Poets. <br /> +Authors Private. <br /> +Authors Public. <br /> +People Of The Army. <br /> +People Of The Navy. <br /> +Bohemians, Ragged As To Their Cuffs, Unkempt +As To Their Raiment. <br /> +All Classes, Shades And Conditions Of Life. <br /> +In Short, A Strange Kaleidoscopic Circle. <br /> +</p> + +<p> +To be a gentleman above question is the <i>badge of admission</i>. To be +clever is the <i>badge of promotion</i>. I am the center of this +intensely interesting circle. I am the focus, the magnet around which +they all revolve. The bulk of the social burden rests on me. The minute +but highly important details are carefully watched and skillfully +righted by the good mother. I am the General Entertainer, but she is the +ameliorator of those little roughnesses, those little sharp corners +which cling even to unconventional people. Her clear, well-balanced +mind, her gentle, yet quietly positive temperament, peculiarly fit her +for this necessary but frequently neglected social work. +</p> +<p> +I am young, beautiful, untrammeled; I am full of an unlimited ambition; +I am not content with the small things of life; I will have none of +those precious morsels—mere fragments—which tempt and readily please +my sweet sisters in Vanity Fair. Young, yet I am far enough beyond +twenty to have ideas of my own. Beautiful, yet I am free from that +all-conscious air which pervades the average beauty. Untrammeled, +because men do not touch me—have not the power to rouse within me one +tender feeling. I am interested always, but I am never susceptible. +Women depend too much on their intuitions; they know so little about +human nature, and less about man-nature. An intuition is oftentimes a +safeguard to woman but more frequently a danger, because it creates +within her too much of a servile dependence upon mere impulses and first +impressions. My own intuitions are strong, but I want my knowledge to be +stronger. I want to know all there is to know about men, women, and +things. Women are usually like open books to me, easily read while +passing on to matters more interesting—men. +</p> +<p> +A man once asked me what special impression or effect I should like to +have on a man of the world who had been every where, done every thing, +seen every thing, knew every thing (or at least thought so)—in fine, +a man with the edge of every desire dulled, the glow of every passion +cooled. My answer was simply this: I should try to give him what I +constantly and without much effort gave most men—<i>A new sensation</i>. +After all it is not such a hard thing to do. Blasé men are my especial +prey; they can always be reached; their vulnerable points are many, but +generally well concealed. +</p> +<p> +I have lost my early enthusiasms, but my enthusiastic <i>manner</i> +still remains. A genuine, cynical touch has, here of late, fallen into +my life. It is not an affectation. I am all the better for that touch; +it makes me more of a power among my subjects. For they are in reality +my subjects. In the main they are loyal. They are ready to fight for me +and my cause—if I had one. +</p> +<p> +I have divided my subjects—and other men—into: +</p> +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i4"> I. Platitudes, </p> +<p class="i2"> II. Pleasures. </p> +</div> +</div> + +<p> +Platitudes are men who lead an honest, stupid existence. They are +contented with their lot—because ignorant of any other. They are +resentful of all innovations—because they are narrow-minded and full +of deep ruts; they are guiltless of one clever thought; they sometimes +stumble into somewhat of a clever action, but humbly deprecate the move, +unconscious of having done a clever thing. Such men used to float about +me in shoals of delicious stupidity. I was such a new creature! I was so +different from the women they had met and always known. They were the +foolish moths, I the candle-flame. They dashed blindly into danger; they +fluttered about in ungraceful, ungracious misery. Finally, they would +fly out and go on their little commonplace ways full of scars and petty +burns, but not altogether marred—all the better for their uncomfortable +but harmless burning. But nowadays it is quality not numbers which I +desire, so they let me alone and are indeed astonished, bewildered, to +find that I can go on, quite successfully too, and <i>without them</i>. +Poor little fools; they are not an absolute necessity to any one—hardly +to themselves. +</p> +<p> +A Platitude is a selfish creature, and never very grateful unless he +expects a continuance of past favors. With him a cessation of favors +means a cessation of gratitude. A limited number of the Platitude class +still linger about me—principally on account of a long-contracted +habit. They are content with whatever they get; they are entirely +harmless, always useful in some way, and occasionally quite interesting. +</p> +<hr /> +<p> +A Pleasure is the direct opposite of a Platitude. +</p> +<p> +He is a clever man—clever in some one particular way. He is generally +a man with many brilliant theories brilliantly brought forth. He is +ready to entertain any proposition. He is ready to try any new field of +human action. He is sometimes sympathetic, more frequently antagonistic. +But my so-called <i>Pleasures</i> may not be forced under any one head +which will accurately describe them as a class. Indeed, each one is a +class within himself; that is my reason for using so broad a term as +Pleasures: they are, in fact, Pleasures to me. They are really necessary +to my happiness—not individually, but as an entirety. +</p> +<p> +Most of these men have been at some one time my lovers—at least after +a fashion. Some of them are foolishly constant. They are not foolish on +account of their constancy—a most commendable trait—but because of +their inability to know just when to make a display of their devotion. +The general run of lovers—at least mine—are distressingly inopportune. +This a woman, in spite of herself, deeply resents; it is so unpardonably +stupid of a sensible man not to know just when to make known his tender +passion. Lovers seldom study the women they love. They labor hard and +plow straight on, in spite of any timid opposition from the other +quarter; they are heedless of the future; they are eager to gain the +prize, and often stride far beyond—overstep the mark, which sometimes +is but a mere shadow line. +</p> +<p> +Most women fail to understand why they are unable to retain their +rejected lovers. To me the explanation is plain. The average woman has +nothing to give her lover, when he asks the all-important question, but +a few tender, meaningless words to environ her <i>yes</i> or <i>no</i>. +Of course, when the answer is yes, they both feed on the thought of +marriage until its consummation. But if she is forced to say no, it +leaves her barren of any thing to offer in lieu of the affection +demanded. She is at once destituted of resources. She has no mental +reservoir out of which she may feed the man's desire, and gently but +effectually turn it into an intellectual channel of her own making and +directing. Therefore the man is lost to her—be he Platitude or +Pleasure. She has made the fatal failure of neglecting to furnish—and +at once—a sufficient amount of intellectual excitement to fascinate the +man into lingering, and force him finally into a steadfast allegiance. +Women ought never insult their rejected lovers by <i>asking</i> them for +their friendship. Those things come, if come they can, of themselves. It +is such an ugly mistake to insist on giving every thing a name. Emotions +thrive so much better when they are nameless. We rightly label poisons, +but why should we label perfumes? I love a touch of the vague and of the +mysterious. It is the mystery-man who wins the woman. Direct +courtships—when found in novels—read well, but they are not advisable +in real life. Women like to upset well-laid plans by perverse and +counter movements. A man must always let a woman do a reasonable share +of the courting. I know so many men who have been courted outright by +their wives—of course in a gentle, womanly way. It is often done. I +have sometimes been so much interested in a man that I have fancied +myself at last in love. But it is always a fleet-footed fancy. Interest +and Love are not always the same—Robert Fairfield once interested me, +but I never loved him. +</p> +<p> +I lead an ideal, independent life. I have no uncongenial family +ties. My wishes, yea, even my whims, find instant gratification, if +gratification is possible. I am just delicate enough to gain the +tenderest consideration from all who know me. My little social sins +gain the readiest forgiveness—from those who love me—and, in the eyes +of some, grow into positive virtues. I maybe outrageously tardy for an +engagement, or, without any particular reason, break it altogether, +yet be understood and upheld. Platitudes do not always understand, and +sometimes foolishly rebel. But it is of no use. I have a little way +of making them believe that it was actually they and not I who had +committed the offense. And they plead for <i>me</i> to forgive <i>them!</i> +</p> +<p> +My modes of life are somewhat peculiar—at least commonplace persons +think them so. I give little lunches and dinners. I invite just +whomsoever I please. Now and then, for the sake of good form, and of the +good mother, I have regulation affairs, to which I bid the <i>society +regulars</i>—the so-called first and best set, who take invitations +as a matter of course, who consider themselves the social salt of the +earth, who go every where, and move about the houses of other people +as if they owned them. The <i>Society Regular</i> is a well-dressed, +bad-mannered, somewhat disagreeable animal, devoid of innate delicacy, +and absolutely without gratitude. They are Platitudes of the first +water. They do not frequent my house. They never dine or lunch with +me, my Pleasures and other Platitudes. +</p> +<p> +This regulation affair is generally and afternoon tea. I leave out my +retinue, the Kaleidoscopic Circle, and tell them about it afterward. My +Social Exquisites and my Social Drifters are <i>reformed regulars</i>—brands +snatched from the burning by me. Briefless Barristers delight me very +much. I have several interesting specimens in the legal line. It is +interesting to have "young men of great promise" around me. True, their +fees are small and few between, yet that enables them to see just that +much more of me. In the old days I used to read law with them; but I +have very wisely abandoned that little habit—it was tiresome. +</p> +<p> +I have one or two Men Who Have Risen. They are crude, uncultured +creatures, but full of excellent points. One of them is a widower, +who made his large fortune killing hogs, and afterward canning peas, +tomatoes, etc. Of course he talks all the time about how he made his +money. I am always an attentive listener, and I verily believe that I +now have a practical knowledge of the hog business and canning interests +of the country. +</p> +<p> +Men Unsuccessful look to me for new inspiration, new hope. They are +always interesting. They are mental fragments flung aside by God, and +by Him held down—so they tell me. They are bitter, cynical, and nearly +always dyspeptic. They are near of kin to my Sympathy Seekers, who are +pale, light-haired creatures, continually making appeals for sympathy. +But my Sympathy Finders are very near and dear to me. They are generally +silent, melancholy men. They are always bearable, unless they chance to +be in love with some other woman, and make me, along with a dozen other +people, their <i>one and only</i> confidant. Then is my life made a +burden. I am privately interviewed on all occasions, the more +inopportune the better. I am cornered and made a vessel for his pent-up +feelings. I am told of her cruel treatment. I am told of her charms and +of her faults—principally not loving him. I am worked up into a nervous +state. My physical nature grants him tears, while my mental nature +speculates about the sincerity of his passion and just to how many +others he may have told the self-same story. Of course all this is +wearing, yet it is very interesting. +</p> +<p> +Newspaper Reporters are a much-abused, downtrodden class. I have known +many, and I have yet to know one unworthy of a true woman's confidence. +Treat them as if they were dogs, and they will act like dogs—forever +barking and biting at your heels; but treat them like human beings, with +due and just consideration, and they will prove to you the wisdom of +your course. Newspaper Poets gather about me in a body. I have all +styles and gradations. They run the entire range from bad to fairly +good; but there is one who writes a most exquisite verse. He is a +tender, sympathetic, yet cynical man. Somehow he has slipped away. I was +not able to hold him, nor did I wish or even dare to keep him. He is +scornful of the world. He sees no reason why he should be here. He would +rather not have been born—if <i>he</i> had been consulted. After all, +I may have idealized and overrated him. One of his rival poet friends +once told me that my favorite and favored verse-maker was an inveterate +poker-player and a continual loser! Ergo, the cynicism and scornfulness +of the world. But banish tawdry thought! +</p> +<p> +Authors Private and Authors Public haunt my salon; men who have written +and printed "little things of their own" for "private circulation only;" +and men who have given their books to the world at large—generally to +the detriment of the world. They are full of twists and notions. They +seek me to gain admiration, and they do—for I am a generous person. +People Of The Army and People Of The Navy are valuable to have around, +for the sake of looks and manners. They never disappoint you. A man +who has been on an Arctic expedition is especially desirable. You get +material for a hero at small cost. I have one Arctic Explorer, and two +army men who have been stationed in Yellowstone Park, and who fought +with the dead Custer. My Bohemians are my chief delight, and they are +many. They give the brightest, strongest colors to my Kaleidoscopic +Circle. They give me new strength to fight the little battles and calms +of every-day life. They give me the halo and the aroma of a new +existence. This, in brief, the retinue. +</p> +<p> +I seldom have—and less here of late than ever—a desire to marry. +To me marriage would be such an uncertain thing—a risk with so little +to gain. I am unwilling to relinquish my hold on the center of this +charming circle. As it is I am a possibility—unfulfilled, it is true, +yet a possibility—to twenty men or more. So I am unwilling to give +up <i>all</i> of my Pleasures just for the sake of any <i>one</i> particular +Pleasure, who might in six months, aye six days, reduce himself into +a miserable Platitude. I may and I may not be a great number of things; +but alas, above all, I am critical. Platitudes as Platitudes may +constantly afford even considerable interest, but Platitudes do not make +ideal husbands for women of my peculiar temperament and mental caliber. +</p> +<p> +I would rather be a Queen of Possibilities reigning over many hearts +than a Queen of just one heart, and that one, perhaps, a most unworthy +heart. +</p> +<a name="image-0007"><!--IMG--></a> +<center> +<img src="images/sig-7.png" width="400" height="112" +alt="Miss Lina Searlwood, +(of the Inner Sisterhood.) +" /> +</center> + + + +<div style="height: 6em;"><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></div> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Inner Sisterhood, by Douglass Sherley et al. + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE INNER SISTERHOOD *** + +***** This file should be named 15179-h.htm or 15179-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/5/1/7/15179/ + +Produced by Kentuckiana Digital Library, David Garcia and the PG +Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net/ + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Inner Sisterhood + A Social Study in High Colors + +Author: Douglass Sherley et al. + +Release Date: February 26, 2005 [EBook #15179] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE INNER SISTERHOOD *** + + + + +Produced by Kentuckiana Digital Library, David Garcia and the PG +Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net/ + + + + + + + + + + + +The Inner Sisterhood. + + + + + +The Inner Sisterhood + +T.I.S. + +--A SOCIAL STUDY IN HIGH COLORS-- + +by + +DOUGLASS SHERLEY + +WHO WROTE + +The Valley of Unrest: A Book without a Woman + + + 1884 + IMPRIMARY + LOUISVILLE, KENTUCKY + JOHN P. MORTON AND COMPANY + + + * * * * * + + Copyrighted according to Law, + 1884, + By Douglass Sherley. + + * * * * * + + +The Inner Sisterhood. + +Dedicated to + +One of the Sisterhood. + + + * * * * * + + + + I + + II + + III + + IV + + V + + VI + + VII + + + * * * * * + + + +Just After the Ball: + +Miss Kate Meadows. + + +ROBERT FAIRFIELD, LOVER: + +Miss Belle Mason. + + +THE BUZZ-SAW GIRL: + +Miss Alice Wing. + + +FLIRTING FOR REVENUE ONLY: + +Miss Rose Clendennin. + + +Mother and Daughter: + +Miss Sophia Gilder. + + +A CASE OF COMPOUND FRACTURE. + +Miss Mary Lee Manley. + + +Platitudes and Pleasures: + +Miss Lena Searlwood. + + + * * * * * + + + I + + A Bit of Sweet Simplicity + In Blue. + + + * * * * * + + + + +Just After The Ball. + + +The storm-door closes with a bang! My escort, a stupid fellow, has +said "Good-night!" He drives down the street in his old rattletrap +of a coupe. I am so glad he is gone! And yet I am always afraid of +burglars--or--something dreadful, whenever I go into the house alone +so late at night. I bolt the inside door. I mount the hall-chair, left +waiting by papa, and, trembling with a nameless fear, turn out the gas +and leave myself in darkness. I make two vain dashes for the stair; a +third, and I have found it. I grope for the heavy rail and go rapidly +up, two steps at a time, and finally, out of breath, badly frightened, +reach my room. What a relief! I turn on the light--two, three, yes, four +burners, and wish for more. I stir up the fire into a blaze; look over +my left shoulder, but see nothing; listen, but hear nothing. I wheel +my dressing-table near by; seat myself before the pretty oval mirror. +I tear off those ugly blossoms, sent by that stupid man for me to wear; +I look long and earnestly at the tired face I see reflected in the pretty +oval mirror, with its beveled edges and dainty drapery of pink silk and +pure white mull. It is not a pretty face; even my friends do not think +me beautiful. Yet I sometimes fancy--alas! perhaps it is only a +fancy--that I have on my face a suggestion of beauty, even if beauty +itself be absent. My eyes are full and dark, with long lashes; my mouth +is somewhat large, not a good shape either, and some people--who do not +like me--say that they can easily detect a hard, cold expression which +does not please them. But my profile is good in spite of my ill-featured +mouth, and there is--generally acknowledged--a certain high-born, +well-bred look about the poise of my shapely head which gains for me +more than a mere passing notice. My manners are pronounced "charming," +and by many--those who like me--charmingly faultless. So, after all, in +spite of this lack of a positive style of beauty, I am what might be +termed a "social success." But it is a social success which I have +slowly gained, with much labor, and its duration is somewhat uncertain. +I am just beginning to be sure of myself, although this is my fourth +winter out. True, I have almost always had an escort to every thing +given, but I have never been able to fully assert myself. Now, wherever +I go, I boldly, and without fear, seek out some comfortable place in +some one room, at reception, party, or ball, and rest assured that all +of my now-many friends and half dozen or more lovers will seek me out, +and having found me, will linger about me the entire evening; and if +I like, I need not even move from that one pleasant place during the +entertainment, but have my supper brought to me and the two or three +other girls who make up our set, for you know it is so disagreeable to +crowd into the supper-room; it is a vulgar eagerness, that carries with +it a low-born air of actual hunger, and it is so vulgar to be hungry; +and our set is so well-born and so well-reared. But, O, my! my hair's +all in a tangle; comes of trying to do it up in a Langtry-knot. I don't +think it is a nice way to fix hair, anyhow. I like to pile mine on the +top of my head. Don't much care if people like it or not. And yet--well, +yes, I believe I do care a little bit. I suppose I'll have to take it +down myself to-night, and not call the maid, because she's very tired, +and when she's tired she's cross; I hate cross people. But I ought not +to blame her, because I've been out four nights this week, and the +musicale is to-morrow evening. The musicales are always so nice--for +people who like music, and I have many friends who are so devoted to +music, at least they say they are. O, this is such a gay season! I don't +know why, but people say it is always going to be dull, and yet, it is +always so gay. The men go down to the Pelham Club a great deal more than +they ought, and yet they don't neglect us entirely; and surely we have +no reason to complain for a lack of parties. Just think of it! three +crushes in two weeks, seven small affairs, excellent play at the theater +all of next week, and I already have three nights engaged, and a chance +of two more. That stupid fellow said something about would I like to go +with him some time during the week. How provokingly vague! But he never +made it more definite and final; just never said another word about it. +I hate men who neglect things. + +Now, my hair is all combed out, and it's not a bad color, either. I +never knew that Belle Mason to have as good a time as she undoubtedly +had to-night. She was actually surrounded the entire evening; four or +five men all the time, and I not more than three. I never did like her; +she has such a conceited air; and now she'll be worse than ever. But I +should not have cared if every other man in the house had stood by her +the entire evening, but to think that even Robert Fairfield was with her +constantly! He only bowed _AT ME_ from across the room, and never +came near me. At the Monday-night German he gave me, with a hand-touch +and a smile, this red rose, then a bud, and I, foolishly, wore it +to-night, although it was faded. The horrid, withered thing! Yes, I was +actually foolish enough to wear it for his sake, and he all the time by +the side of Belle Mason! It was a brilliant affair to-night--so every +body said; at least a dozen said as much to me, and I heard a great many +more saying that same thing to our hostess. All the people really seemed +to have a good time. But somehow I didn't enjoy myself much, and there +are several reasons why. I abominate going out with a stupid man; but +there was no other to go with, so it was an absolute necessity, because +go I must. He brought a shabby, uncomfortable coupe. He had sent ugly, +dabby flowers; and he hung about me the entire evening with the silent, +confident air of the young person who fancies himself engaged to you. +He said nothing; he did nothing--except bring me a melted ice; but he +looked a number of unutterably stupid things. And I heard more than one +woman, in a loud, coarse whisper, say, "I wonder why she came with that +stupid stick of a man?" But, of course, they didn't mean for me to hear +it; they would not be so unkind; but, unfortunately for my comfort, I +did hear, and every word. But that was not all. It's a hard thing for a +woman, in a gay season, to appear each night in a new dress. Of course +you can have one nice, white dress, and change the ribbons--sometimes +pink, sometimes blue, or any color that may happen to strike your +fancy--but sooner or later people will find that out; they will just +know it's the same dress with other ribbons, and it's a social deception +which fashionable society-idiots just will not tolerate. You must appear +in a new dress or an old dress, undisguised. Now, to-night, how was +I to know that Mrs. Babbington Brooks could afford to give so elegant +an affair, or in fact would be able to induce so large a number of +the best and nicest people in town to be present at this, her first +entertainment. People said it was going to be crude, perhaps +disagreeable. So I wore that pale-blue silk--old shade of blue--which +I almost ruined at the Monday-night German. When I entered the +dressing-room four or five of my best girl-friends affectionately kissed +me on the cheek, and exclaimed something about being so glad that I had +worn my pretty, pale-blue silk, and that it was so becoming; and was it +not that same "love-of-a-dress" which I had worn at the Monday-night +German? Now I really would believe those girls malicious if I did not +know they were--each one of the dear, sweet creatures--_perfectly +devoted_ to me; because they have told me of their devotion many +times, and I know they would not say any thing they did not mean--girls +in our set never do! + +But this painful fact remains: my pale-blue silk is _not_ becoming! +I am entirely too dark to wear pale-blue, and I am just dying for a +terra-cotta. It's the loveliest shade in all the world! Papa likes blue, +so I ordered it to please him, because he is of the opinion that every +body looks well in that color, because mamma always looked well in blue +when she was young and beautiful. That reminds me what several old +married women said to me at the party to-night: "O, my dear, your mamma +was perfectly beautiful when she was your age! And she had so much +attention, and from such nice young men!" And they looked right at that +stupid fellow, for his silent stupidity had driven away all the other +men, who were just as nice as any of mamma's old beaus, too. But those +old ladies could not have meant any thing, because they are dear mamma's +most intimate friends, and I am sure must take a kindly interest in my +welfare. It's a dreadful thing to have had a beautiful mamma, when you +are not considered beautiful yourself, in fact barely good-looking. + +But quickly to bed, or I will look what I am, tired and worn-out, at the +musicale to-morrow evening. I must be fresh and well-rested, because I +am to play, and alone, a most difficult instrumental piece. It's one of +those lovely "Nocturnes." I wonder if I'll be encored? I was not when I +played at the last musicale. + +The lights are out! The fire burns low! I thrust back the little +dressing-table, with its pretty oval mirror, beveled edges, and dainty +drapery of pale pink silk and pure white mull. I tenderly take that +withered rose from off the floor, where I rudely tossed it in my anger +of an hour ago. + +I forget that stupid fellow, my escort; the pale-blue dress, so often +worn; the random words--idle, thoughtless, and unkind, at least in +their effect; even pretty Belle Mason fades away, and her charm and +her triumph no longer remembered against her. I go a-drifting from all +unpleasant memories! I murmur a prayer learned at mamma's knee long +years ago, and alas! for long years left unsaid. I kneel in the +firelight glow, I tenderly, fondly kiss that red rose. True, it is +withered and dead, yet how sweet it is to my lips, and how dear it is +to my heart! Something whispers that I love the man who gave it me! It +seems to quiver to life again, and tremulous with a strange, new joy, +I remember the hand-touch and the smile which came with the giving of +that red rose. + +[Illustration: +Miss Kate Meadows +(of the Inner Sisterhood)] + + + + + * * * * * + + + II + + A Dash of Jealousy and Hypocrisy + Done up in Old Gold. + + + * * * * * + + + + +ROBERT FAIRFIELD, LOVER. + + +Robert Fairfield is an average man among men--but he is something more: +He is the ideal man among women. All women have ideals, and there is +not, there can not be a more dangerous piece of heart-furniture. An +ideal is easily broken, sometimes badly damaged, always liable to +injury; and the heart of woman hath not one cabinet-maker who can, with +his touch and skill, bring back one departed charm, one lost beauty. + +I know this man--and yet I do not. I love him--and yet, again, I do not. +I suspect that, woman-like, I am more fond of his charming, delicate +attentions than I am of the man himself. I sometimes fancy that he loves +me; but I am wise enough in my day and generation to be painfully aware +of the fact that just about six other women entertain the same delicious +fancy. He has told me of his love, told me in a gentle, artistic +manner--and doubtless he has told the six other females the same story; +for he need not trouble himself to vary the telling each time, because +he has no fear of detection. + +He knows that he is never the topic of conversation among women. They +seldom, if ever, discuss their ideals, and all of them, myself included, +have a most evidently-conscious air whenever dear Robert's name happens +to be mentioned, no matter how trivial the mention. But I am the +least touched, and surely the more unresponsive of the entire seven, +consequently he is more devoted to me than to any of the others. He was +by my side the entire evening at Mrs. Babbington Brooks's elegant and +most fashionable ball the other night; he was my escort to the musicale +last Tuesday, and O, he did look so handsome! And he never before said +SO MANY positively tender things, and he said them in such a tired, +pathetic tone, that he almost won my heart; really, when I'm with the +man I am sure that I love him, and most devotedly. But I have perfect +control over myself and my limited supply of feeling--Henry Seyhmoor +says I am without a heart; so I only look at him full in the face when +he tells me all those tender little things, and then turn away with a +light laugh--assumed, of course--and gently but firmly remind him that +I am _not_ Kate Meadows. + +Ah, here is a note from him now! He always writes from the Club--the +Pelham, of course. I don't know the people who belong to any other Club. +What a nice thing it must be to go down to the Club at night, or +whenever you like--I wish I was a man. And this is his note: + + + "Your Platonic friend, Henry Seyhmoor, seems quite devoted here of + late, my dear Miss Mason. I saw you with him last evening at the + theater; your talk charmed him into unusual silence. How entertaining + you must have been! + + "Won't you go with me to the opera Friday night; and won't you be as + nice to me then as you were at the musicale--no, not that nice only, + but even nicer still--as nice--as--well--as I should like you to be; + won't you? + + "_Robert Fairfield_" + + +A note of mere nothings. My common sense tells me that much. Yet I find +myself forming words for myself between the written lines, and twice +read that dainty card, with the crest and motto of Pelham. Of course +I'll go with him; for to go with Robert Fairfield any where means a +delightful time to any girl so fortunate. It means a bunch of roses +almost heavenly in their sweet loveliness! It means the two best seats +in the theater! It means the turning of a hundred envious female eyes +from all parts of the crowded house; for our theater is always crowded +on Friday nights, no matter what the play or players may chance to be. +Because it is fashionable to go on Friday nights, and theatergoers in +this town are so fashionable. + +I am glad, at least once a year, that I am a Methodist, because we +don't keep Lent. But Kate Meadows is very high-church, and, of course, +she ought to keep it! I wonder if she will? She was not out during the +Langtry engagement; but that was on account of lack of men, not on +account of Lent; because her little brother told my Cousin Mary's little +girl that nobody had asked his sister to go any where for days and days, +and that his papa had to take her whenever she went any where. However, +I suppose she'll go, if she goes at all, with her papa; he often takes +her out. I heard her say that she did just love to go out with her dear +papa, and that it pleased him so much. Poor old man! I saw him nodding +and napping, nearly dead for sleep, the last time he was out with her. +It's a shame to keep him up so! As for myself, I would never go _any +where_ if I had to, for the lack of a man, always be dragging poor +papa out. It must be so very mortifying. But nothing could mortify +that girl; she is such an upstart. Her bonnets and her dresses are the +talk of the town, because they are so ugly and unbecoming. But she +has a gracious and pleasant manner, and sometimes has a good deal of +attention--whenever she once gets out. People frequently say nice +things about her; but I am sure it's their duty, because she entertains +charmingly and often. She never gives any thing like a regular party, +but quiet little affairs that are acknowledged to be very elegant by +all who are so fortunate as to be invited--because people never decline +invitations to her house. She is the only girl that I am afraid may +finally win Robert Fairfield. She's passionately, foolishly in love with +him! Why, I saw him give her a red rose-bud at our last Monday-night +German, off in the corner--he didn't know I was looking--and didn't I +see her wear that same red bud, then a withered rose, to Mrs. Babbington +Brooks' the following Thursday evening? She wore the shriveled thing on +her left shoulder, nestled down in a lover's knot of pale-blue ribbon. +But I made myself so agreeable and altogether lovely that dear Robert +F. did not go near her the entire evening; only gave her, from across +the room, by my side, the _bow of compensation_. He left that rose, +thanks to me and my successful efforts, to languish unnoticed in its +lover's knot of pale blue. Ah, Kate Meadows, that time your lover's +knot was made in vain! + +The "Earnest Workers," a society of our church, for ladies only, meets +this afternoon at four, and it's nearly that time now; so I must put on +what I call my "charity dress and poverty hat." It's such a good thing +to dress plain and religious-like now and then, just for a change, +especially when it's becoming. I will carry my little work-basket and +wear, as I go down the street, a quiet, sober smile, and cultivate a +pious air--a trifle pious anyhow. And if I chance to meet Mr. Fairfield +he will, of course, join me, and wonder as we walk how one so worldly +can be, at times, so charitably inclined and so full of such good works +and holy thoughts. I sometimes wish I was good. But it's so stupid to be +good, and the men don't like you half as well. And I am very willing to +acknowledge it, I like the admiration of men. I don't know any "balm in +Gilead" so sweet and altogether acceptable. + +But see! Down the street, right beneath my room-window, comes +_that_ Kate Meadows; and Robert Fairfield's with her! He holds her +prayer-book in his hand! How earnestly they are talking! I wonder what +it's about? What a tender look on his face turned full toward her +downcast eyes! O, the _hypocrite_! They are both hypocrites; we are +all hypocrites! On their way to that horrid afternoon Lenten service! +It's a whole square out of the way to come by this house! She did it on +purpose; I know it, I know it! She just wanted me to see her with him! +She's the meanest girl in this town! I always disliked her, and now I +fairly despise the very ground she walks on--when she's walking it with +him! She's coming to spend all of Tuesday morning with me; won't I be +gracious though! I'll kiss her three or four times, instead of the +regulation-twice! I _can_ be hypocritical, and _sauve_ too! +I don't wish I was good! I don't ever want to be good! They have turned +the corner! They are out of sight! I just won't go one step to the +"Earnest Workers!" It's all nonsense, any how! Just sewing, and +gossiping, and talking about the minister and his wife, and all the rest +of the congregation who are not there! No, _no_, NO! I'll just stay +right here at home, and I'll have--yes, I will--I'll have a real good +cry. + +[Illustration: +Miss Bella Mason. +(of the Inner Sisterhood.)] + + + + + * * * * * + + + III + + A Wild Fantasy + In Garrulous Red. + + + * * * * * + + + + +The Buzz-Saw Girl + + +I just must talk! I must talk all the time! Of course I talk entirely +too much--no one knows that any better than I do--yet I can not help it! +I know that my continual cackling is dreadful, and I know just exactly +when it begins to bore people, but somehow I can't stop myself, but go +right on and on in spite of myself. + +Aunt Patsey says I am simply fearful, and just like a girl she used to +know, who lived down-East, a Miss Polly Blanton, who talked _all_ +the time; told every thing, every thing she knew, every thing she had +ever heard; and then when she could think of nothing else, boldly began +on the _family secrets_. Well, I believe I am just like that +girl--because I am constantly telling things about our domestic life +which is by no means pleasant. Pa and ma lead an awful kind of an +existence--live just like cats and dogs. Now I ought never to tell that, +yet somehow it will slip out in spite of myself! + +My pa says I really do act as if I did not have good sense, and I am, +for the world, just like ma. And ma, she says I am without delicacy, +manners, or any of the other new touches that most girls have. As for +Aunt Patsey, she is _always_ after me! She is "Old Propriety" +itself! She goes in heavy for _good form_. "Not good form, my dear, +not good form!" is what I hear from morning until night. I do get so +tired of it! They are all real hard on me! No body ever gives me +encouragement, and yet every body is ready with heavy doses of +admonition! Now ma is a powerful big talker herself, although she won't +acknowledge it; but she always seems to know just what not to say! I +call that real talking-luck! I am so unlucky talking. + +But the big power in our house is Aunt Patsey Wing! There is always +bound to be such a person in every well-furnished house! They seem to +be just as necessary as the sofas and easy-chairs--but not quite so +comfortable to have around. We are all deathly afraid of her! She is +rich, stingy, and says that she has made a will, leaving every dollar +to the "Widows and Orphans' Home"--a nice way to do her relations! So of +course we are on the strain; on our best behavior to effect a change in +our favor. Ma says she will never, in this world, change it--and changes +made in any other world won't do us any good. But pa says he knows how +to break it! Mr. Meggley, her lawyer, who drew up the will, has made +an agreement to sell pa the flaw--for of course there is one in it, for +all wills have flaws--then he will employ another lawyer and break it +without any trouble. My, it will be so exciting! I suppose we will have +to prove that Aunt Patsey was of unsound mind. Pa will give us our +testimony to learn by heart! Pa is a real enterprising man! Some people +say he is a regular schemer, but Aunt Patsey says that he is a brilliant +financier! He has made and lost two or three big fortunes! He lost one +not long ago, and it is so hard just now to make both ends meet. But +Aunt Patsey pays a little board; that helps along, at least with the +table! + +Pa gives me a small allowance--when he has the money; then not one cent +more! I believe every body in town knows just how much he allows me! Pa +says I told it, myself. Perhaps I did; one can't remember every thing +one chances to say. Although my amount is small, yet I have quite a +little way of fixing myself, and always looking real nice. Aunt Patsey +says I do pretty well, until I open my big mouth and begin to rattle, +rattle, rattle! She says I talk more and say less than any body she has +ever known, except that down-East girl, Polly Blanton, who always +told--when in want of any other topic--the _family secrets_. Aunt +Patsey is forever-and-a-day preaching to me about _good form_; what +I ought, and what I ought not to do; sometimes repeats long passages +from the prayer-book--nearly all the morning service--then says, "It's +no use, no use; just like pouring water on a duck's back!" But she must +love to do useless things, for she just keeps right on. She says that +I ought to be able to keep silent once in a while, anyhow; but I don't +know _how_ to keep silent. + +Some body had to come and tell her--Aunt Patsey--that I talked a great +deal, and very loud, at the theater, between acts. Now the idea of +finding fault with girls, or any body, who talk _between acts!_ Why +it's just perfectly delightful! I begin the moment the curtain drops; +I don't even wait for the music to begin--it is such a waste of time! +I know that I do talk a little too loud; but just lots of real nice +persons talk real loud at the theater--it comes natural. When people +turn around and look at me as if I was really doing something dreadful, +then I talk ever and ever so much more! People can't frown _me_ +down--no indeed, double deed, not if Alice Wing knows any thing about +herself! People who know me never try; except my family, headed by Aunt +Patsey, who always says, "We are prompted by a deep sense of duty, my +dear, _duty_!" + +I am _almost engaged_! Even Aunt Patsey likes the man, and O, +so do I! He is nice and quiet, and just loves to hear me talk--never +interrupts me, but lets me go on, and looks at me so admiring-like all +the time! Ma says I am sure to spoil every thing by too much talking! He +is _so_ timid! I encourage him, though, all I can; he seems to like +encouragement _so_ much! He understands and appreciates me, too, +and that is a great deal; for most of the other men act so funny when +they are left alone with me! They nearly always have a solemn, almost +scared look--but I really don't know why! I must confess that I like +stupid men; they may not talk much, yet they seem real eager to listen! +Then stupid men always have such good manners, which, in society, counts +for a great deal! People who have good manners are so safe--they never +do any thing startling! I wish my manners were better--but they are +not! After one of Aunt Patsey's talks on _good form_, and strict +propriety, I try to improve--regenerate, if possible. I often watch Miss +Lena Searlwood, one of the older girls, who is a great favorite with +Aunt Patsey--but it is no use! She is a self-contained woman, never ill +at ease, and who puts you, and at once, at rights with yourself. She is +a most beautiful and discreet talker! She would rather die, burn at the +stake, suffer on the rack, than tell even the suspicion of a _family +secret_! Aunt Patsey is always talking her up to me, wishing that +I would be only a little bit like her anyhow. So the other night, at +a party, I took special care to notice the attractive Lena. She is so +graceful; quiet grace, ma calls it. She leaned against a heavy, carved +chimney-piece, with dark-red plush hangings, and she looked for all the +world just like a tall, white flower, slender, beautiful! She was slowly +picking to pieces, leaf by leaf, a pale-pink rose, which she had stolen +away from somewhere about her willowy, white throat. And while she was +doing all this--and it took quite a while, too--she looked full in the +face of the man by her side, that rather good-looking, stuck-up Calburt +Young, _and said nothing_--absolutely not a word! She did this long +enough to make me almost lose my breath. I could not do a thing like +that; it would give me nervous prostration sure! Yet, I know it is +very effective! It was just like some picture you read about, and it +was beautiful, striking, down to the smallest detail. But situations +effective, and details pleasing, are not in my line, and they are +just as much a mystery as improper fractions used to be when I was a +schoolgirl. I hated my school! It was called a "Young Ladies' Seminary." +It was a fashionable, intellectual hot-house, where premature, fleeting +blooms were cultivated regardless of any future consequence. But I +was a barren bush! I never fashion-flowered into a profusion of showy +blossoms. Aunt Patsey said that I did not reap the harvest of my golden +opportunities; but pa, he growled and grumbled a good deal when the +bills came pouring in, but paid them, and roundly swore that he was glad +he had no more fool-daughters to finish off in a fashionable seminary. + +I have a keen sense of the ridiculous, and it gets me in trouble all the +time. I don't mean any harm; but I can't help telling a good thing when +I hear it or see it myself. Now that _same_ Calburt Young can't +bear me; he hates me in good fashion because I made fun of his doleful +air, and said that he had the looks and the manners of a man who had, in +a desperate mood, shot down his sweetheart, concealed the fact, and was +suffering the pangs of deep remorse for the dreadful deed. He heard +about it and got angry! He _does_ look awful gloomy! He says I am +crude, _very_ crude, and put people on edge; and that I am so +good-natured, so good-humored all the time that it reduces less +fortunate people into a state of most desperate defiance--defiance +against my everlasting flow of animal spirits, unchecked by any thing. +He told all that to Sophia Gilder, and Sophia is my bosom-friend; so she +told me! Aunt Patsey has a great admiration for her mother, Mrs. John +Robert Gilder, but says that Sophia, poor girl, is a milk-sop--weak, +weak! and taps her shining forehead knowingly. Auntie has a most +alarming way of disposing of people! I know all about her +methods--gracious goodness! I ought by this time. + +About two or three months after I was finished off at the Seminary, Miss +Lena Searlwood gave a little affair in my honor. She called it a tea--it +really was more like a dinner! They do entertain _so_ well! I was +taken home afterward by that Calburt Young--a great privilege I suppose! +He was in a bad humor anyhow; had not seen enough of Miss Lena! He let +me do all of the talking, never once suggesting a new topic, and +listened with an air, not of attention, but enforced toleration. It made +me furious! Two or three times he said "Yes?" which was really worse +than nothing! Finally, when near home, he turned to me and in a tired, +indifferent tone, said: "Beg pardon, Miss Wing; you are _just out_, +I believe! What did you study while at school?" It was a fling--I knew +it--so I answered, "I studied how to be rude to arrogant, patronizing +people who are forever asking impudent questions with a desire to give +pain, sir!" He placed my night-key in the door deliberately, calmly; +pushed open the door, lifted his hat, turned on his heel, without even +closing one half of the storm-doors, like other men always do, and said: +"Miss Wing, you have been well taught! You were, indeed, a very apt +scholar! I congratulate you! I have the honor to bid you good-night!" I +could have picked a dozen pale-pink roses to pieces just then, but not +leaf by leaf; I could have torn up a whole rose-tree by the roots! They +say Mr. Young is so smart, wonderful deep, and all that; but he is just +a mean, rude man, and I won't ever have any thing more to do with him; +and when I say I won't, _I won't_! + +How some people do ruffle me into a fever-heat of dislike and ardent +opposition. Of course I know that it is all wrong, yet after all there +is a certain kind of satisfaction. Now, for instance, _that_ Mrs. +Babbington Brooks, with her smooth, oily tongue, abominable phrases, +"Yes, my sweet loves," and her "O! my dear doves," sets me fairly wild. +She is such a vulgar, low-born person! I always feel tempted to fly +right at her and tear off her load of tawdry, costly finery, exhaling a +strong, close odor of greenbacks. How people have taken them up! all on +account of their money. They are invited every where; and only last +season people were turning up their noses and asking, "Who, pray, are +the Brookses?" Thanks to a cook from somewhere, and a butler from +somewhere else, their entertainments are said to be really delightful, +and their dinners perfection itself. They are not yet quite sure of +their position! They are afraid it will not be permanent! But they will +succeed. I know they will, because I _feel it_! To me there is +always something very fascinating about these desperate social +strugglers--especially when they are successful. Aunt Patsey, too, she +says they will succeed, and Aunt Patsey knows! But she don't know every +thing, for Mrs. John Robert Gilder has fooled her. But I am not +surprised; she would have fooled me, also, if I was not so intimate with +Sophia, who tells me _every thing_--the only person who ever did; +and there is just nothing I would not do for her. I know Sophia Gilder's +_other secret!_ She is caring a great deal too much for a man who +don't take overmuch interest in her. But the man don't even know that +she cares any thing for him, and I don't believe he will ever +know--unless I tell him myself! Now I call that real tragedy; just as +good as any you ever see on the stage, or read about in books. I would +love to tell him; but that is _one thing_ I have never told, and I +never will, either! As they say in novels, it will go down to my grave +with me. I am so anxious about Sophia, I am afraid it may take her +there. But I have my doubts, she is right healthy-looking yet. Aunt +Patsey says that love hurts a powerful lot, but don't often kill out and +out. Robert Fairfield is the man. Ma says she never could understand why +he don't pay me devoted attention. His father was one of her old beaus. +She was engaged to him; Aunt Patsey broke it off--she was scheming for +pa--she could break off any thing, that ancient female! Mr. Fairfield is +polite to me, and that is about all. When I was a school-girl I used to +dream about him! In my dreams he was always dressed like a knight, and +rode a milk-white steed, waved his hand toward me, and then I always +waked up. It was so provoking. I never could get any further into the +dream. I know I would like him if I knew him real well. He is quiet, but +not one bit stupid. He talks little, but oh, he is such an attentive +listener! He don't come after me, so I can't run after him. For I don't +know, and I don't want to know any thing about _catching_ men--as +if they were wild animals, fish, or something. Aunt Patsey calls it +_diplomacy_! Diplomacy? Fiddle-sticks! It is down right deception +of the very worst kind. I know that I talk too much, tell a great many +things that ought to be left unsaid, but I do not tell lies--there is no +other name for them--and knowingly, with malice aforethought, make an +injury or do a wrong to any body. + +But, my, my! I am always in trouble. Tom, my little brother, ran into +the room just now, nearly out of breath, and made a little speech which +almost gave me a nervous chill: "Oh, sister Alice! Won't you catch it, +though? Aunt Patsey is just in from her meeting of the 'Cruelty to +Animals' Association. She is in a dreadful way! She is just talking ma +black and blue! She is giving you 'Hail Columbia!' She met Mrs. +Par-dell, the manicure, the woman who ma says goes around fixing finger +nails for fifty cents, and gives you five dollars' worth of gossip, +sometimes scandal--to those who like it. She told Aunt Patsey a long +tale about what you had certainly said: that Aunt Patsey was seven years +older than she acknowledged; had been dyeing her hair for years; did not +have a real tooth of her own in her head, and was a regular old tyrant +here at home, and that all of us were afraid as death of even her thin, +old shadow. Oh, but won't you catch it, though! Sis, you had better +skip, and pretty quick, too! I think she's coming up-stairs now!" + +It is awful, but I suppose I must have been telling just such a tale, +but to whom I can not, for the life of me, think. See now, all this +comes of telling the _family secrets_. That Mrs. Par-dell is a +dangerous woman! I refused flatly to have her make bird-claws out of +my finger-nails. This is her revenge! I am powerless! But it was not a +slander, it was all the truth; just as true as gospel. That's the reason +she is in such a rage. But she is coming; this house won't hold us both +just now, so I am off _via_ back stairs--to dine with my dear +Sophia Gilder, if I don't find that fraud, Mrs. Babbington Brooks, there +ahead of me. She and Mrs. John Robert G. are inseparable. The old dragon +draws near--I am gone, leaving behind a smile and a kiss for my ancient +female relative. Ah, Aunt Patsey, not _good form_, you know, to get +angry with people--even with your niece, + +[Illustration: +Miss Alice Wing, +(of the Inner Sisterhood.)] + + + + + * * * * * + + + IV + + The Cool Quiet Flirtatious Underglow + Of a Green Opal. + + + * * * * * + + + + +FLIRTING FOR REVENUE ONLY + + +I am a Private Corporation. + +My capital stock is a pretty face, a clear head, and pleasant manners. + +I was incorporated by the "social legislature" four winters ago. Mamma +was the active, successful lobbyist. My father was the silent, financial +lever absolutely necessary for the passage of the bill--opposition +small. + +The social Banking-House (our residence), on a fashionable avenue, had +been erected years before. A great mass of brick and mortar--stone-front +of course--not beautiful, but imposing. It was left unfurnished--a +portion of it--until I was ready to start in upon my social career. That +is quite a usual plan with people who are prospectively fashionable. +They do nothing with the drawing-room, library, and reception-room until +the daughter of the house is pronounced ready. The plastering, after a +dry of eighteen years, has had plenty of time to settle, and is not apt +to crack the costly papers or ruin the elaborate frescoes; and the +wood-work no longer in danger of warping or opening too much. + +My incorporation was an event. Business at once set in, and, with slight +fluctuations, has continued ever since brisk and healthful. The venture +has been a decided success. The constant, untiring skill of mamma, and +the valuable experience of each gay season has enabled me to frequently +increase the capital stock. For my face is more pretty than it was four +years ago, and my manners are more easy and pleasing. Mamma says manners +are every thing--and they are a great deal. I have grown to be somewhat +of a woman of the world. I have met so many new people--strangers from +all parts of the earth! I have been every where, and done so much. There +is nothing local about me! Some people say that I am all things to all +men; perhaps I am, for if I am not _broad_ I am not any thing. I +abhor narrow-mindedness! I am a trifle fraudulent in a harmless way, +which I am free to confess is more than a trifle fascinating to most of +the men I know. I smile, make eyes, sometimes sigh, and with many +devices coax the masculine fancy into life, and for my sake. Yet, +withal, I am said to be conscientious--very, in fact, and never +intentionally deceive. My reputation is better, alas! than I deserve. My +network is invisible but effectual; my weaving-power artless, but it is +the art concealing the artful. + +I am a Private Corporation! Therefore, I own all the stock. I constantly +make loans, but I never sell. The collateral--either the many shades of +love or the subtle changes of friendship--must be A No. 1 in every +respect. It is _collateral_, not indorsements which I require. +Paper not able to sustain itself is not considered worth much in my +Banking-House (social). + +It is my sweet expectation to retire from business whenever I chance to +find--or rather when I am found--by the right purchaser. I often long +for that time; I often picture to myself the undoubted delights of a +domestic life, and--but in the meantime I carry on a carefully perfected +system of + + =Flirting for Revenue Only.= + + +That is my long-chosen motto, from which I do not depart. A Private +Corporation must have protection! Self-preservation is the first +consideration, the first law. I am full of little formulas of both +manner and speech--they afford me ample protection. Make-talk is the +complete salvation of the female Banker (social). I never disdain the +use of a _promoter_, no matter how trivial it may be. _Promoters_ +help you to float heavy, stupid men, and save you from a complete wreck +on the shores of stupidity; and they act as most excellent elicitors +when applied to clever men--draw out the very best in them. I have +_promoters_ and _promoters_. I was asked not long since to give my +definition or receipt of this valuable article. This was the one which +I gave: Take some tangible object visible to the eye; for instance, a +banjo. Attract attention to it in some successful way. Talk first about +the banjo itself (the promoter), then if the man is clever he will, +unconsciously, be _led up_ from a discussion of that or other +musical instruments to a chat on music, ballads, operas, in fact the +very best he has to tell, the best he happens to know on that subject. +In this way we are able to rise above the trivial, worn topics of the +day--the usual make-talk of the multitude. I am always very happy in the +selection of my _promoters_. I may not be very original, but I am +quick to appropriate new ideas. I rapidly get them into the line of +march, ready for immediate use. + +To be a "social success" one must be something of an actress. Men +usually expect a vast amount of acting from young women, who will, +if they are discreet, certainly live up to that expectation. Men are +willing to be deceived, but it must not be a labeled deceit. I go down +the street and meet Mr. Seyhmoor; although I see him a block off, and +before he sees me, yet I affect great surprise when he greets me--a +little start is quite effective. The trifling little deception floods +my face with color, which comes almost at my command. It easily flashes +upon him that I am indeed surprised, and betrayed into an expression of +my delight. He is flattered. He joins me. A batch of envious women watch +my little triumph. _That_ is + + =Flirting for Revenue Only= + + +Then a walk down the street, a talk of mere wordy nothings, but of deep +and tender looks. In point of words, a make-talk affair; in point of +feeling, a vague shadowy suggestion of twenty delicious possibilities; +in point of fact a walk without any serious results. Calburt Young, a +fascinating man-about-town, a semi-Bohemian, joins me at a fashionable +ball. He takes me away from the dancing-room (and the other men), for +Bohemians never dance. He finds, as only he can, some quiet unoccupied +nook, a little out of the way, and yet a very proper place. An effective +spot environed by flowers, and palms broad and graceful, hung with +dimly-lighted, richly-colored lanterns--where you may see but not be +seen, where you may hear the gayety and yet by it not be disturbed. +Music from the ball-room reaches me, and a delicate oriental perfume +fills the air. Calburt Young, handsome, silent, with a look of earnest +appeal on his face, looks down into mine. Not the man, but his manner, +the situation, the music, the stealthy, intoxicating odor of perfume +and flowers, the sway of each tropical leaf, the distant gayety, all +surcharge my soul; gratify to the fullest extent my sensuous nature--my +love of the picturesque and the luxurious. The temptation is strong to +depart from my fixed principle. But I do not yield. I half extend my +ungloved hand, white and ringless, murmur in a low voice suggestive of +suppressed emotion, "You are very good to me! I was tired; I am glad +to have this rest--and with you, Mr. Young!" + +I am permeated with the deliciousness of the situation! I am conscious +of the magnetic something about me, drawing him near to me! I can almost +feel his hot, quick breath on my cheek where the color comes and goes. +He is within my power! But I do not love him. With an effort I banish +the tender manner. My voice, now a trifle cold, asserts itself in clear, +even tones: "Let us return; I am rested now. Mr. Seyhmoor claims me for +the next dance!" + +The spell is broken! Calburt Young does not understand! He is wise, but +I--I am a woman, and a woman of the world. But he does not reproach me. +How can he? I have not allowed him to say a word of love to me. I have +been environed not only with flowers, colored lights, and sweet music, +but also with the harmless platitudes of speech. I whirl away into the +dance with Henry Seyhmoor! I have been boldly flirting, + + =Flirting for Revenue Only=. + + +Sometimes I am not so successful in this avoidance of exactly what I +have skillfully brought out. Sometimes this policy leads to a proposal. +The tide grows too strong. The man breaks down the barrier, but what +good does it do? I have maintained a high protective tariff; there is +nothing tangible which he can produce against me; there is never any +thing which he can _say_ against me; and if I have been ordinarily +skillful and cautious there is absolutely nothing for him to +_think_, but "How good she has been to me; how delicately, +tenderly, she has tried to avoid giving me pain!" + +At the start, my first season out, it was a hard policy to follow, and I +would often spend a sleepless hour, after the man had said "good-night!" +But those foolish old days have gone, and with them the early freshness +of my youth, although the _appearance_ remains. I have seen so many +men promptly revive beneath the showers of another woman's glance +and of another woman's tender--perhaps like mine--unmeant words, mere +platitudes, platitudes effectual, intangible. They are not sufficient +proof in any court of conscience, law, or public opinion. They are the +glorious privileges of a woman who is a Private Corporation, + + =Flirting for Revenue Only=. + + +Robert Fairfield! There is a magic something in the very name itself. +And the man! ah, after all, old things are best. My heart never knew a +sensation--the quick, throbbing something which we call _love_--until +I met him, when hardly more than a school-girl. It was my first winter! +He was young, attractive, somewhat wild, and quite the _fashion_ +that year, and in fact ever since. He is a dainty love-maker. He is +ready with a hundred delicate little attentions unknown to most men, +and highly gratifying to most women. But after all their influence is +limited--at least with me. His actual presence is necessary. Mamma +opposed the match--for we were engaged (never announced) at one time. +She always disliked him, and on that one subject has always been +unreasonable. But she has more influence over me than he has, or ever +could have. She can generally eradicate the dangerous effects of his +presence. This he resented--and rightly. I must renounce mother, home, +every thing, and come to him, or--I must cling to him and let all other +things go. He recognized no middle course; I constantly sought one. I +put him off; I made him many promised, and meant them all--when with +him. Finally he was forbidden the house, and now we barely more than +speak. He is somewhat devoted to a half dozen or more of our best young +women, and they are all more or less devoted to him. The world---our +little world--once said we would marry; but the world has decided that +it was, mistaken, and that we did not even love one another. And did we, +or not? In short, do we? + +There are times, moments of despondency, more frequent here of late, +when something within whispers, "You are waiting too long! You are, +indeed, far above par, but will it last?" + +The credit of my Banking-House (social) is apparently without limit. My +pretty face stands well the wear and tear of hard social work. My worst +female enemy dares not call me _passe_ in the slightest degree, +although I am a shade beyond the uncertain age of twenty-five. But +surely these strange premonitions must come as a warning. They surely +mean something. My womanly intuition--and it can be trusted--plainly +prompts me to give up this dangerous, ruinous policy of + + =Flirting for Revenue Only=. + + +I must abandon my little formulas of speech and manners. I must quit +making eyes. I must grant myself a pause in this social farce. I must +try to let myself love the man whom my _real honest self_ hath +chosen years ago. The man I drove from my door for the sake of +_general revenue_. The man against whom I closed my heart! But will +he come back again? Will his proud spirit brook an uncertainty? But, +after all, is it _well worth_, the while? Those are uncertain +questions--I dismiss them. There is no immediate danger. My humor +changes; I am no longer despondent. Away with Doubtful Uncertainty and +all of his stale retinue, tricked out in danger-signals--each a false +one. Sleep on, sweet Conscience, sleep on! To-night the +wedding-reception--given to a woman married for her money! Another +glorious opportunity for me! + +=A.B.= _I may be found any time between the hours of nine and +one, on the crowded stair, in a nook beneath, in the dancing-room, +or--somewhere about the flower-decked house in my accustomed capacity of +Private Corporation, skillfully, successfully_ + + =Flirting For Revenue Only.= + +[Illustration: +Miss Rose Clendennin, +(of the Inner Sisterhood.)] + + + + + * * * * * + + + V + + A Symphony in Pink + With Philistine Traces. + + + * * * * * + + + + +=Mother and Daughter= + + +We are not on good terms, mamma and I, She is hard, exacting, +unreasonable; she is proud, ambitious, worldly; she is deeply embittered +against me because I am not a social success, because I am not +brilliant, attractive. Her one thought, by day and by night, has been +the promotion of my interests--from her own selfish standpoint. I am +never consulted--always ignored, and my feelings trampled upon. My +slightest objection fills her with indignant surprise, and is met with a +prompt rebuke and a _dictum_, from which there is absolutely no +appeal. Always unwilling, yet always obedient--passively obedient. + +This is my third winter out and, to quote mamma, no prospects, no +prospects! Of course, I am nothing of a belle, nothing of a social +queen among women. This is a source of endless mortification to mamma. +But there is no reason why it should be so, because a belle in this +town is a lost art. Lost in the days of the brilliant Bettie V. and the +beautiful Alice B. Nowadays belleship is like statesmanship, the honors +are divided. We have plenty of real pretty women, but no startling +beauties. There is not a girl in my set but who is fully up to the +average in appearance, manners, mind. Competition may do well enough for +trade, but it does not produce any one reigning belle in social circles. +So I am not entirely to blame; the causes which work against me also +work against others. I go to the utmost limit, and sometimes beyond. +I do every thing which my better nature will license--often a great +deal besides. My opportunities are excellent. I am invited every where, +because we belong to a highly respectable and somewhat ancient family +(we have a beautiful family-tree, _arranged_ by mamma before I was +grown); and I go every where, even when I am forced to go with papa, +which, I am glad to say, is never more than twice in one season. + +Papa is really a dear, good man. He has not only the love but also +the pity of a devoted daughter, for he does have such a hard time +with mamma. While he understands perfectly all about making money, +and just lots of it, too, yet, _papa does not shine_ in mamma's +fashionable circle. He is a slave to her slightest whim--and she is +full of them. He is ready, and always, to do her most capricious +bidding. Yet they are not congenial; I am positive she never loved +him. He was, even when they married, counted among the rich men of +the community. And she--she was the youngest child in a large family, +with high notions and small income. But he is devoted to her! She +may not be lovable, but she is magnetic. She forces homage from all, +devotion from many. But she is an evil magnet; and she is conscious +of her power, which she wields in a high-handed and a most unscrupulous +manner. Unlike most women of the fashionable world, she makes a decided +point of poor papa's attendance. He must always go with her--and he +does. Often he comes to his home tired out, worn down to the very +quick--making money he calls it--and mamma, fresh and ready, eager for +the social battle which, like a war-horse, she scents from afar, drags +him out with her--somewhere--generally, when there is nothing more +exciting on hand, across the way to that bric-a-brac-shop of a house, +where the tawdry elegant, always weary Mrs. Babbington Brooks holds +forth in an ultra-aesthetic style peculiarly her own. There they spend +the entire evening in what mamma softly calls "a sweet communion of +congenial souls," which, being translated according to methods of the +earth, earthy, means simply a tiresome time over cards, the constant +sipping of a pale pink stuff which foams--dissipated looking, but +harmless. This they drink out of dainty little cups somewhat larger than +a thimble. "Fragile art gems," to quote Mrs. Babbington Brooks, "which I +was so wildly fortunate as to find in a curiously jolly shop somewhere +about Venice, the last time I was over on the other side. Ah! how I do +love Venice!" + +Now, there is a fair sample of that woman's talk; it is a mystery to me +how she keeps it up. Mamma says that she is "wierdly picturesque;" papa +says (but only to me) that she is "a regular downright fool." But they +are both wrong; she is a woman with a sufficient amount of brains to +know just how easily and successfully so-called sensible people may be +imposed upon; and how readily they can be made use of--stepping stones +to the accomplishment of selfish desires. But she does not fool mamma. +They both use one another to advantage. There is always between them a +tacit little arrangement. Mrs. Babbington Brooks never stops short of +a positive sensation. Her methods are bold, startling, successful. Her +husband, an insignificant looking man, invented something, an air-brake +for railway trains, an improvement on the Westinghouse air-brake, +"Brooks' Unbroken Circuit." This, after years of obscure struggling, +brought them into immediate wealth, but not at once into social notice. +Their first efforts in that direction, or rather, _her_ first +efforts, were complete failures. They nibbled about on the outer edge; +finally, it dawned upon her to play some decided role. She determined to +be an aesthete. She built a house accordingly; she dressed accordingly; +and she acted, but above all, she talked accordingly. Thanks to her +wandering brother, an ideal American adventurer, she obtained from +London, far ahead of the general importation, a complete outfit of +Lilies, Languors, Yearnings, Reachings-out, Poppies, Wasted Passions, +Platonics, Heart-throbs, and all the more lately approved instruments of +aesthetic torture. Her establishment was ready. She wanted recognition. +She waited for an opportune moment. It came. Oscar Wilde, the apostle +in chief of the aesthetic school, reached our shores. He brought a letter +of introduction "To the one aesthete in all America, Mrs. Babbington +Brooks." On his arrival he sent her this letter, and with it a note, +written in a full, round hand, stating that he would be at her service +after his lecture in her town, on the eighteenth of the coming February, +and, being it was she, his terms were only three hundred dollars; usual +price, five hundred. She wired an eager acceptance of his generous +offer, and at once set her household in readiness. She invited the +town--the fashionable, so-called desirable portion of it--and waited the +issue. Her gilded net was well spread; her bait irresistible. She easily +caught them all, large and small; her house was crowded; her effort a +recognized masterpiece. Mamma says she could have readily made +arrangements with Oscar Wilde for a season in London--a female aesthete, +and from the crude land of America! Now, she is actually quite the rage! +Her triumph is now complete; her following large, composed of a batch of +deluded fools, caught by the glamour and the blow of brazen trumpets, +with just the _tincture_ of an artistic principle. + +A large amount of money was spent on my educational training, both at +home and abroad. A young woman who can play a little, sing in fairly +good voice a few pretty songs, popular ballads, and paint an occasional +plaque, or even rise to the dignity of a panel, can surely make claim to +the free chromo distribution of that flattering term, "most highly +accomplished." + +I was systematically advertised--by mamma--for about four years prior +to my _debut_. Every body was made to know that I was "growing up" +rapidly, "coming on," but still young, "oh, very young, and cares +absolutely nothing about men." Fact: cared more then than I do now. +Young fellows--available matches--would be invited out "very informally +indeed," to dinner or to tea, "would just drop in, you know," each +occasion skillfully planned by mamma. She is an excellent +manager--always manages to have her own way. On each one of these +occasions it was so arranged that they would catch a glimpse of +me--supposed to be entirely accidental. I was made to pose for the +occasion over my books or fancy-work. I was "so studious!" or "so +skillful with my needle!"--running comment by mamma during the +_accidental_ glimpse of her darling daughter. These things are +always effective, for mamma is really an artistic woman. Her social +villainy fascinates me into a constant state of acquiescence. There is +an irresistible glamour, there is a touch of his Satanic majesty which +gains me, against my will, body and soul. She is a bad, dangerous woman. +What an awful idea to have of my own mother! but, fortunately, other +people don't know her as we do--papa and I. + +But after all the constant planning, the education with trimmings, the +high art dressing, the effective situations without number, in short, +the whole broad system of skillful social advertising, I am not the one +magnet-point; I am not the belle of the town. This has caused the breach +between us; and it grows wider every day. Mamma used to be unkind, but +now she is cruel. Those uncertain social honors can never be mine; +therefore a reconciliation is out of the question. Men come to the +house frequently and in fair numbers, but frequent and merely polite +attentions do not satisfy mamma. I have never had a real lover. Men seem +to like me well enough; they send me flowers, take me out, and do not +let me suffer at balls or parties for want of attention. But they do not +make love or ask me the all--important question, "Will you be my wife?" +This confession would surprise most people. My name is constantly +mentioned in a tender way with some one man of my acquaintance, but +there is never any thing beyond the mention. + +During the past winter mamma has been trying a new plan. She has +determined to marry me off, having proved to be such worthless material +for the make up of a reigning belle. She has made earnest, successful +effort to induce a batch of clever young lawyers into a frequent and +regular attendance at the house, under pretext of a quasi-ideal Literary +Association. A wise bait, which always ensnares the eager-nibbling +lawyer. It _sounds well_ to have people say that he is a gifted +young lawyer and a member of a most delightful and highly select +literary association--and the average young lawyer acknowledges a +fondness--inexpensive, of course--for all things which _sound well_; +the legal mind bows down before the mighty shrine of "Euphony." + +Any thing can be readily organized in this town, but to keep it going is +a different matter and a desperate hard thing to do after the novelty +wears off. But mamma seldom allows any of her organizations to die a +natural death. Her present venture, of a literary nature, is thriving; +it has grown to be the idle fashion of the social hour. Mamma alternates +with her always coadjutor, Mrs. Babbington Brooks, in entertaining the +motley, and somewhat cultured crowd. Mamma, First Director and Chief +Manager; Mrs. Babbington Brooks, Second Director and Most Worthy +Assistant. This "Culture-Seeking Club" (its name) has been organized, +mamma says, on my account. It is her last effort in my behalf. She has +always opposed the idea of my forming an alliance with a poor, petty +young lawyer; but she has grown desperate, and organized this club in +order that I might, or rather she, angle for some rising young barrister +with brains, and a promise of something better than the usual +fulfillment--poverty. It is a positive tragedy, this being calculatingly +thrown at the head of a so-called desirable young man! + +Nominally I am a member of the "Culture-Seeking Club," but actually +and at heart I am a Philistine out and out. This pernicious high-art +and culture-seeking fever has never caught my practical soul in its +relentless grasp. I love not the ways of the social aesthete. Gleams +and shadows do not thrill me; sunflowers and daisies do not gratify my +hungry soul--or self. Mamma says I am not sufficiently clever to tempt +the brainy monster, _i.e._, Culture Fiend. She has taken me in +hand; I am to play a role also. She has a strange power over me which I +am unable to withstand. It is the fatal power which a strong mind gets +over the more weak and readily yielding mind incapable of a successful +resistance. She is a woman with a bad heart and a clear head. I am +irresolute, full of most excellent intentions, and in effect as bad as +she without the redeeming features of extraordinary cleverness. I am to +play the role of a young maiden with an object in life. I am to be full +of a new desire to grapple with the weighty problems of the moment. I am +to be carefully coached for each club meeting; I am to be veneered with +a thin skin of glittering knowledge. I am, indeed, bewildered, startled. +I am made to read all of the book notices worth the reading. I am made +to pore over a half dozen reviews which people in this town know +absolutely nothing about--although they do call mamma the "Pioneer +introducer of good Periodicals." I am superficial, but she is not. She +reads each good book itself, not the criticism only. She reads it +carefully, thoroughly, as few other people ever do. Then she gives me a +special line of thought to follow, and I am made to go through a little +combination of what I have read and of that which she has told me in her +direct, compact manner. Thus does she enable me to produce a written +paper which never fails to start the "Culture-Seeking Club" into a +little flutter of supposed intellectual excitement. For a moment, at +least, I am forgotten, or, if remembered at all, they say to one another +as they sip that everlasting pale pink foam out of the "dainty art gems +from Venice, you know:" "Ah, Sophia Gilder is her more clever mamma's +own daughter; but, alas! she will never be such a woman as her +mother--the gifted Mrs. John Robert Gilder, the life and soul of our +Culture-Seeking Club!" And I piously hope to heaven that I may be saved +from such a fate, and never be the woman that I know mamma to be! + +My last effort was said to be a wild, jagged thing--a reaching out, a +groping after. It was called "Souls Antagonistic: A Symphony." I wore an +especial costume--"suited to the subject," said mamma. "A sweet poem of +a gown," echoed Mrs. Babbington Brooks. When I finished my task, for it +was a task, and imposed by a hard task-master, Mrs. Brooks glided, like +the serpent she is, over to my seat and looked down with a false longing +into my flushed face. Then in a low, somewhat musical voice, full of a +false tenderness and a borrowed pathos, "May I, sweet young girl, touch +with mine the precious lips which to-night have made exceeding glad my +sad, sad soul with those wise and honeyed words?" She kissed me. I +fairly trembled with an intense loathing. That oily-tongued creature +hates me with a deadly hatred. And she fears me, for she knows that I +have found her out and know her to be what she is, a most _successful +fashionable fraud_. But it is folly to run counter to the social +current. It is best to hold my peace. It is hard to do, but it can be, +and it must be done. I was nervous--rebellious. I quickly fled away from +that false woman and her loathsome caress. I sought rest and quiet in a +distant cushioned corner of the deserted hallway. I was angry--too angry +for tears. I buried my throbbing head in my hands and tried to forget my +miserable existence; it was such a failure. It was so unlike that which +I wished it to be, and yet I did not have the will-power to make it so. +I was in one of my morbid moods. Resolutions I knew to be useless. On +the morrow they would be broken. It was always, and I fear ever will be +"Mother and Daughter;" never "Daughter and Mother." She always takes the +lead, and I, always weak enough to follow. Was there no one to whom I +could turn? No one to yield me a few kindly words to strengthen me for +that constant, useless warfare against, yes, against my own mother? + +As if in answer to my silent call, a footstep! My hands dropped into my +lap. A man stood near. I did not look up; I knew who he was. We need +hear but once the footfall of certain people and always after know +instantly if they are near. A voice: "Miss Gilder, do I intrude?" + +Robert Fairfield is not a man of many words. He stood by me in an +attitude of _sympathetic silence_. He made to me an unspoken +appeal. In my heart there was a grateful answer. A sad, smileless face +was uplifted, and then my lips also gave answer. It was a brief story. +It was my daily life of home oppression. But it was not briefly told. It +ought not have been told at all; but I am human, so human. The time had +reached me when somebody _must know_, and the time had brought with +it into my sorrowful presence this same Robert Fairfield. I had barely +known him. An accidental introduction, a few dances at a ball, and +once--just once--a brief but serious talk at a summer-night concert. I +was nothing to him; he was every thing to me; I loved him, I love him. +But custom, and rightly, too, keeps a woman silent. He may know the +story of my miserable home life, but he does not know--and he must never +know--of the magnetic power which drew me toward him, made me tell my +story, and left me with a regret and a tenderness which has closed my +heart to any other who may chance to come. + +[Illustration: +Miss Sophia Gilder, +(of the Inner Sisterhood.)] + + + + + * * * * * + + + VI + + A Cold Gray Study. + + + * * * * * + + + + +A CASE OF COMPOUND FRACTURE. + + +Family Position, Wealth, and Personal Beauty are potent factors in the +mysterious make-up of a social success, but they are not omnipotent. +A woman may have this desirable trinity, and yet be as nothing in the +social world. In fact, she may be without one, two, or all three, and +yet achieve unaccountable success in a social way. + +My first winter out was a flat failure. I did not lack wealth and family +position, but I was awkward and not beautiful; in short, ugly. But my +failure was not due to this lack of beauty, for other women far more +ugly than I outshone me in every way. _I did not know myself_. +There is the key to many a mystery. I tried to be like other women +and--failed. I had a little individuality of my own, but for a time did +not know it. + +During that formative period I had one love-affair; at least, I did the +loving and Gerome Meadows did the "affair," for with him it was nothing +more. He was a man just a trifle above the average in looks and manners, +intellect--every thing. He was always attractive and agreeable. He was +always making a graceful effort to please, and He was--with me--always +successful. He was four and twenty, yet he was a genuine boy. He was +full of a boy's love and full of a boy's charming susceptibility. He was +responsive to the different natures of many women. He was peculiarly a +loveable man. He had diligently, conscientiously courted a goodly number +of these different natured women; and they all had, at some one time, a +tender leaning toward, without a positive love for, this Gerome Meadows. +I am one of the number. Twice has he courted me, and twice have I +refused him. First, because _he_ did not love me; second, because +_I_ did not love him. + +It was during that formative period when first he came, _sent by his +mother_. She was a wise woman, who selected mates for her always +obedient children. It was an honor to be selected--so she thought. A +sacrifice--so considered by the unselected. + +Gerome had for me somewhat of a circumstantial love. We had always known +one another. We had been constantly thrown together. It would have been +a pre-eminently proper arrangement. It would have been the alliance of +the two influential and wealthy families. Therefore, his mother wished +it and ordered it to be so. But an unexpected disappointment awaited her +honorable ladyship. It had not occurred to her that a woman could be so +foolish, so neglectful of her own interests and of her own happiness, +as to refuse in marriage the hand of her precious son. My evident +hesitation--for at heart I loved him--surprised and somewhat alarmed +her. I was invited to dine with the family. I was treated as a +prospective member. With the soup, the fish, and the heavy meats, they +dealt out the virtues of their Gerome, seriously and earnestly. With the +sweetmeats and the coffee they smilingly touched upon his lightest and +most pardonable faults. My heart trembled for its safety. It was a well +planned effective process. That night he told me of his love with the +air of a man who fully expects a warm response and affirmative answer. +Both were bravely denied him. I told him that he was mistaken; I told +him he did not, and never would, have for me the grand passion of his +life. He said--what else could he say?--"You are wrong; you deeply wrong +me. You are plunging my young life, hitherto so full of hope, down into +a depth of bitterness and regret from which it may never rise again!" +This was said in a tragic, somewhat stilted, but impressive manner. I +was touched; it was my first experience; it was the first time that I +had ever heard a man talk about his broken, blasted hopes and his empty, +ruined life. But it is all a very old story now. I know just how much to +believe--in truth, precious little. Nothing dulls the edge of a woman's +sensibilities more quickly than frequent proposals. His rejection was a +relief to Gerome; he was tired of making love to women especially +selected by his mother; he did not fancy the process. Thus far he had +always been unsuccessful. I had told him no--but, womanlike, I did not +mean it; I did not want him to go out of my life. In a vague way I was +conscious of a desire to win his love, but it was during my social +formative period when every thing was vague. I was unconscious of my +power, yet I did not know how to accomplish my end. So Gerome left me. I +was unable to keep him. But, somehow, I did not consider it a finality; +it was simply an awkward pause. I hoped for his return and a renewal of +his protestations. I had heard women say that if a man really cared for +a woman he would easily brook the first refusal and speedily return. So +I thought, but I was mistaken; he did not return. + +Two moons had not waxed and waned before he was having what now I am +sure must have been the one passionate love of his life. This was +unexpected; a blow in the dark to my pride, and, alas! I fear, also, to +my heart. It was the death-knell to my better nature. It gave direction +to the formation of my social life. From that moment I am conscious of +a change, and for the worse, in my hitherto attractive nature. It was +attractive on account of its sweetness and its purity. It was a nature +which, until then, had known nothing of the hot, passionate love of the +world and of all things worldly. The formative period was gone, and with +it most that was good. + +It was hard to have a man court me, not exactly for my money, but +because I chanced to be the nearest fruit in reach and because his +crafty mother thought it would be an excellent arrangement! Especially +hard, because in spite of myself I had for him a very tender feeling. +My sudden loss and quick appropriation by another created within me an +unjust resentment; my resentment was silent and unnoticed, but it filled +me with a desire for revenge. This was the evil which crept into my +life; this was the element which warped my better nature, made me +grasping, worldly, hard to please. This sudden desertion placed me in +a false position. People said that Gerome had never loved me--simply +trifling. The friends of that _other woman_, a great brown-eyed +beauty with the subtle charm and fatal fascination of a devil most +lovely, made it appear that of course Gerome Meadows had never loved +me--why should he? He cowardly held his peace and let them prattle; he +was kneeling low before the shrine of his own selection; he was in open +rebellion against his irate mother, who did not approve of this +brown-eyed beauty. + +I was left alone and let alone. But fate was not altogether against +me. Death did me a friendly service. He called to her last resting-place +an ancient dame who had severely played the role of grandmother and +mother-in-law in our large establishment--unloved, tyrannical, +unregretted. But custom bade us mourn. Then was my opportunity. Our +doors were closed, but I was not idle--_I studied myself_, and, +retrospectively, all of my friends. After several months of hard +training and much serious thought I found myself ready. I had +established my little theories about life, and their intricate relations +to myself, and cast about carefully for something upon which I might +with safety and good results practice upon. Most of my friends were +tame, uninteresting, and none of them just then my lovers. I resorted to +many of the little airs and tricks of social trade. I soon found myself +doing quite a brisk little business in a quiet way; quite quiet, for +I still wore light mourning and, of course, was not going out; we all +thought it best to pay the highest possible respect to the late but +unlamented grandmother. I soon gained the reputation--which I bravely +sustained--of being far above the idle, cruel dealer in human hearts; I +was said to be full of old-fashioned coquetry, but not even flirtatious; +that I was gracious, had pleasing manners, but was the very soul of +sincerity, and would never be guilty of leading men on and on. I was +frequently contrasted with that devilish brown-eyed beauty--a recognized +flirt, ready to sacrifice any man on her crowded altar. A man once said +to me of her: + + "Such kings of shreds have wooed and won her, + Such crafty knaves her laurel owned, + It has become almost an honor + Not to be crowned." + + +"Hush! hush! she is my friend," I said, for I knew him to be one of +her rejected lovers. In a month I had gently told him nay. But he was +innocent, he did not know that I had played my cards for him. He thought +me cold, but he thought me kind. He advertised me in desirable places +and with most desirable people. I captivated several other desirable +men. It is so easy for a woman to fool a man. But I was eager to try +my powers on better metal--some man of the world. A victory in such a +quarter would fully establish me, and it would bring the very best men +to my side, for they, like sheep, readily follow the well-known leader. +And perhaps--Gerome might return. + +One winter's night late, after I had gone to my room, two men called. +Ordinarily I should have excused myself, but something--we call it fate, +I believe--prompted me to see them. One was an old friend--a friend of +the family. The other a thorough man of the world, and--I knew it +intuitively--my desired victim. He was an idle, indifferent, Social +Drifter. He was an artist by profession; his inclination--and his +leisure--made him more of a _diletante_ than any thing else. He was +more notorious than famous. He had done nothing to give himself fame, +but he had done many odd things which gave him notoriety. I have always +had a secret but deep-rooted love of notoriety; it makes my blood tingle +with a most delicious sensation. I knew that he could give me a great +deal of _quiet notoriety_ which was the one thing needed to make me +a success--notice, notice, constant notice! The surgeon may be ever so +skillful and yet if his skill be not known his instruments, rusted with +disuse, will cling to their unopened cases and his hand will forget its +cunning. So is it with the flirtatious maiden; she must hang forth a +sign which may be read, and quickly, even by those who run. + +My artist lover was not the ideal slender, pale-faced youth; he was not +beautiful, he was not good looking. But perhaps I should have loved him +if he had been the one, and tolerated him longer if he had been the +other. He was aggressive; he was open, direct always; he was not blunt, +yet he was free from the all-prevalent use of the _preliminary_. +He loved me! And he very soon told me as much and more. He made no +concealment of the fact to me, or indeed to others. He loved me, was +proud of it, and glad to have all know of it. Of course this was just +what I wanted, for he was not a susceptible man. He had not been in love +for years. His declarations meant something, and people knew it. Thus +was I brought into notice. "Who, pray, is this Mary Lee Manley?" they +began to ask. "Is she the same scrawny, ugly girl who was such a flat +failure in society two years ago?" "What has she done to herself? She +is certainly not a beauty but she has improved, just how we are unable +to say." + +The men began to find me, hunted me up, and were unable to realize that +I was that self same individual whom they had so diligently avoided +her first season out. All the while my affair went on, systematically +artistic, with that Social Drifter. No man will ever love me again +as I was loved by that man. I wantonly played with his openly avowed +affections. I was deliberate, artistic. I was cold. I led him on +blindly. I calculated every move with mathematical accuracy. I left +nothing undone. I skillfully covered my tracks. I always told him sadly, +gently, that I did not love him, and that I never could. Yet I told him +in such a manner that, almost breathless with a new hope, he refused to +believe me, refused to listen. He was always considerate and I hated him +for his consideration. He was always thoughtful, unselfish, and alas, +always loving. Finally, after I had successfully played him for all +that he was worth--which was a great deal to me--I told him to go. I +dismissed him with scorn and without reason. Of course there had been no +love in my heart for this man, but his delicate attentions were always +intensely flattering. And once, just once, I might have yielded, but +my family, my own judgment, every thing, was against the man, and to +the end he continued to be simply a trial for my untried and newly +discovered powers. And then, perhaps the more potent reason of all, +Gerome Meadows gave uneasy indications of a desire to return. I, and +immediately, made arrangements for the full gratification of his desire. +Now was my chance. Revenge, when delayed, is all the sweeter for the +delay. The world must know of my power, and through Gerome Meadows! I +had waited long and patiently, but I had not wasted my time. I had gone +through a severe social training, and with the best results. I was an +accomplished flirt, but I was not trammeled by the always dangerous +reputation--it was not known. It was simply a rumor about town that I +might be somewhat of a trifler, but it had not been affirmed, and few +believed the idle, unauthorized rumor; it had not even reached the ears +of Gerome Meadows. He had hotly quarreled with his devilish, brown-eyed +beauty. She had dismissed him after a highly tragic scene. The details +were highly sensational--as told by her devoted partizans, and warmly +denied by his and his outraged family (principally irate mother). They +sound like the fragments of a romance written by Bulwer, and with a +liberal touch of Lucile. It was the talk of the town, and many things +were said, and a few were done. I was silent and hopeful. My triumph was +near! She had done with him, and forever. He did not cut his handsome +throat! He did not do any of the thrilling but uncomfortable things done +by the usual rejected lover in the average novel--_but he came back +to me!_ Once more Gerome Meadows was my recognized lover, and the +people--the fickle people--began to whisper it about (greatly to my +satisfaction), that perhaps this very uncertain Mr. Meadows had always +loved me from the time his sister Kate and myself were school-girls +together. And furthermore, he had for a while yielded to the manifold +fascinations of that devilish brown-eyed beauty. In fact, he himself +told me a goodly number of just such little speeches; discoursed on the +difference between real love and mere fascination. He told me that I was +the only woman he ever could really love, and that he had for me a pure +and warm affection. Ah! how sweet were those declarations to my ear. But +not to my heart--it was closed against him. + +I was not the woman he had known and halfway loved before--for I had +eagerly tasted deep and long of the Egyptian flesh-pots, and I refused +any other kind of social sustenance. I allowed him to believe that his +tardy return had routed all rivals from the field. I forced him to fancy +me to be so different from _that other woman_. I was, in truth, a +cool, quiet reaction. I coaxed him into believing me to be full of a +gentle, womanly purity. I made him blind to the fact that I was a +worldly woman, conscious of and ready to unhesitatingly use my +worldliness. I measured my powers aright--I could at my own sweet will +allow him, force him, coax him, make him _do any thing_. I cunningly +wove a web in and around the heart of Gerome Meadows--his rejected, torn +and dejected heart. I gently soothed him into not quite a forgetfulness, +yet a strong and healthful calm. He was grateful. Reactions are always +dangerous; he wondered why he had not known me before as he knew me +then. And while he wondered I charmed him into a new love fever. It was +almost a touch of real passion. It was a skillful drawing together of +the scattered ligaments of that other and violently broken love. I had +labored hard, and not altogether in vain. He was mine for the taking. +Would I take him? + +We stood together late one afternoon in a rich oriel window which +overhung the street. We were silent. The rustle of the light summer +drapery filled the air with a faint but melodiously tender undertone. +We looked out of the broad open window down the street. It was near the +close of a superb summer's day. I was in a mood to yield. My old nature +seemed to rise out of its former self. It was the one golden opportunity +for the man by my side. The old tender leaning toward him came back +again, stronger, more subtle than ever before. It was--for the +while--love, or something very like unto love. My nature, my soul was at +its utmost flow, but no one touched the flood-gates. Gerome was passive, +silent. One word, a hand-touch, and I would have loved him and bound +myself to him for weal or woe! Little things are every thing in a +woman's life. Robert Fairfield passed by beneath the window; he briefly +paused, politely looked up, lifted his hat, _smiled_, and--innocent +of what he had done--went on his way. He had simply done what was the +proper and usual thing, but his conventional smile had come into my life +at a strangely opportune moment--or, was it opportune? My heart had been +laid bare, the flood-gates had been touched, and they had slowly opened +beneath the magic influence of a _smile_. Gerome Meadows had been +silent. He had lost his one golden opportunity. I told him so, and sent +him away. I fired upon him a volley of ridicule and contempt; my revenge +was complete. He was angry, surprised, disappointed. The old wounds were +torn open afresh; but he was not easily undone. He immediately made +peace with his irate mother. He placed himself in her charge. He +promised to try again, but under her direction and according to her +selection. In a few days more he goes to the altar with this new and +latest love. But, ah! Gerome, your charming, susceptible self never +loved but once! Where is that devilish brown-eyed beauty? It is well +that she is silent! One word from her and--but, go marry. And pray, take +with you my conventional wishes for your peace and happiness. On your +wedding day I will write you a dainty card and send you a trifle. + +What shall it be? What would be, under the "existing circumstances," the +most appropriate thing? Perhaps a little Cupid, somewhat weather-beaten +and with an empty quiver might do, or, best of all, _a lock of +golden-brown hair_ stolen from the rich, heavy tresses of that +devilish brown-eyed beauty. What say you? But _au revoir_, Gerome +Meadows. + +There is to be a reception--a most elegant affair--the night of the +wedding. It is to be given by that now well-satisfied lady, Mrs. +Gillespie Meadows, the mother of my dear, dear Gerome. My escort: Robert +Fairfield. The beginning of another end! What will it be? + +[Illustration: +Miss Mary Lee Manley, +(of The Inner Sisterhood.)] + + + + + * * * * * + + + VII + + + An Olive Outline + In Shades and Shadows + Of a Clever Social Life. + + + * * * * * + + + + +Platitudes and Pleasures. + + +My life is different from the usual social existence of the average +society girl. + +I have never followed the mirage of a definite ideal. + +I have never been a straggler for social honors--they have been mine +without the struggling. I was born to a position. It is mine by right +of inheritance. There is no strong odor of lately acquired greenbacks +about our old and very respectable establishment. We live on a quiet, +unfashionable street; we are somewhat apart from the world, and yet we +are frequently sought--for we never seek. My grandfather was a man of +excellent parts and much power in his native State. He was a well-known, +important factor in the home of his adoption. His wife was celebrated +for her ready wit and radiant beauty in the days when Madison was +President. + +My father is a great man. It is not a greatness hedged in by a local +limit; he is known far and wide. His scientific researches have made him +famous and his name familiar and beloved on foreign shores. Nor is he a +prophet without honor even in his own country. + +My mother is a rare woman. She is peculiarly a womanly woman. She +constantly gives her best thought, her best effort, to the members of +her family, always forgetting self; and she is full of the tenderest +consideration toward other people. She never speaks ill of her neighbor; +she is always true. She is always ready to discharge her duty--and more. +She is tender, gentle, firm; there is not a flower which blooms more +full, better rounded out, more sweet, better to look upon, or in any way +more complete, more perfect than she. + +I may not be great or entirely good myself, but I constantly breathe an +atmosphere exhilarating and pure--made so by the presence of a great man +and a good woman. + +Our house is the tacitly recognized head-quarters for all kinds and +conditions of clever people, and some not so clever, but who--in their +way--are just as interesting: + + Social Exquisites. + Social Drifters. + Briefless Barristers. + Men Who Have Risen. + Men Unsuccessful. + Sympathy Seekers. + Sympathy Finders. + Newspaper Reporters. + Newspaper Poets. + Authors Private. + Authors Public. + People Of The Army. + People Of The Navy. + Bohemians, Ragged As To Their Cuffs, Unkempt + As To Their Raiment. + All Classes, Shades And Conditions Of Life. + In Short, A Strange Kaleidoscopic Circle. + + +To be a gentleman above question is the _badge of admission_. To be +clever is the _badge of promotion_. I am the center of this +intensely interesting circle. I am the focus, the magnet around which +they all revolve. The bulk of the social burden rests on me. The minute +but highly important details are carefully watched and skillfully +righted by the good mother. I am the General Entertainer, but she is the +ameliorator of those little roughnesses, those little sharp corners +which cling even to unconventional people. Her clear, well-balanced +mind, her gentle, yet quietly positive temperament, peculiarly fit her +for this necessary but frequently neglected social work. + +I am young, beautiful, untrammeled; I am full of an unlimited ambition; +I am not content with the small things of life; I will have none of +those precious morsels--mere fragments--which tempt and readily please +my sweet sisters in Vanity Fair. Young, yet I am far enough beyond +twenty to have ideas of my own. Beautiful, yet I am free from that +all-conscious air which pervades the average beauty. Untrammeled, +because men do not touch me--have not the power to rouse within me one +tender feeling. I am interested always, but I am never susceptible. +Women depend too much on their intuitions; they know so little about +human nature, and less about man-nature. An intuition is oftentimes a +safeguard to woman but more frequently a danger, because it creates +within her too much of a servile dependence upon mere impulses and first +impressions. My own intuitions are strong, but I want my knowledge to be +stronger. I want to know all there is to know about men, women, and +things. Women are usually like open books to me, easily read while +passing on to matters more interesting--men. + +A man once asked me what special impression or effect I should like to +have on a man of the world who had been every where, done every thing, +seen every thing, knew every thing (or at least thought so)--in fine, +a man with the edge of every desire dulled, the glow of every passion +cooled. My answer was simply this: I should try to give him what I +constantly and without much effort gave most men--_A new sensation_. +After all it is not such a hard thing to do. Blase men are my especial +prey; they can always be reached; their vulnerable points are many, but +generally well concealed. + +I have lost my early enthusiasms, but my enthusiastic _manner_ +still remains. A genuine, cynical touch has, here of late, fallen into +my life. It is not an affectation. I am all the better for that touch; +it makes me more of a power among my subjects. For they are in reality +my subjects. In the main they are loyal. They are ready to fight for me +and my cause--if I had one. + +I have divided my subjects--and other men--into: + + I. Platitudes, + II. Pleasures. + + +Platitudes are men who lead an honest, stupid existence. They are +contented with their lot--because ignorant of any other. They are +resentful of all innovations--because they are narrow-minded and full +of deep ruts; they are guiltless of one clever thought; they sometimes +stumble into somewhat of a clever action, but humbly deprecate the move, +unconscious of having done a clever thing. Such men used to float about +me in shoals of delicious stupidity. I was such a new creature! I was so +different from the women they had met and always known. They were the +foolish moths, I the candle-flame. They dashed blindly into danger; they +fluttered about in ungraceful, ungracious misery. Finally, they would +fly out and go on their little commonplace ways full of scars and petty +burns, but not altogether marred--all the better for their uncomfortable +but harmless burning. But nowadays it is quality not numbers which I +desire, so they let me alone and are indeed astonished, bewildered, to +find that I can go on, quite successfully too, and _without them_. +Poor little fools; they are not an absolute necessity to any one--hardly +to themselves. + +A Platitude is a selfish creature, and never very grateful unless he +expects a continuance of past favors. With him a cessation of favors +means a cessation of gratitude. A limited number of the Platitude class +still linger about me--principally on account of a long-contracted +habit. They are content with whatever they get; they are entirely +harmless, always useful in some way, and occasionally quite interesting. + + * * * * * + +A Pleasure is the direct opposite of a Platitude. + +He is a clever man--clever in some one particular way. He is generally +a man with many brilliant theories brilliantly brought forth. He is +ready to entertain any proposition. He is ready to try any new field of +human action. He is sometimes sympathetic, more frequently antagonistic. +But my so-called _Pleasures_ may not be forced under any one head +which will accurately describe them as a class. Indeed, each one is a +class within himself; that is my reason for using so broad a term as +Pleasures: they are, in fact, Pleasures to me. They are really necessary +to my happiness--not individually, but as an entirety. + +Most of these men have been at some one time my lovers--at least after +a fashion. Some of them are foolishly constant. They are not foolish on +account of their constancy--a most commendable trait--but because of +their inability to know just when to make a display of their devotion. +The general run of lovers--at least mine--are distressingly inopportune. +This a woman, in spite of herself, deeply resents; it is so unpardonably +stupid of a sensible man not to know just when to make known his tender +passion. Lovers seldom study the women they love. They labor hard and +plow straight on, in spite of any timid opposition from the other +quarter; they are heedless of the future; they are eager to gain the +prize, and often stride far beyond--overstep the mark, which sometimes +is but a mere shadow line. + +Most women fail to understand why they are unable to retain their +rejected lovers. To me the explanation is plain. The average woman has +nothing to give her lover, when he asks the all-important question, but +a few tender, meaningless words to environ her _yes_ or _no_. +Of course, when the answer is yes, they both feed on the thought of +marriage until its consummation. But if she is forced to say no, it +leaves her barren of any thing to offer in lieu of the affection +demanded. She is at once destituted of resources. She has no mental +reservoir out of which she may feed the man's desire, and gently but +effectually turn it into an intellectual channel of her own making and +directing. Therefore the man is lost to her--be he Platitude or +Pleasure. She has made the fatal failure of neglecting to furnish--and +at once--a sufficient amount of intellectual excitement to fascinate the +man into lingering, and force him finally into a steadfast allegiance. +Women ought never insult their rejected lovers by _asking_ them for +their friendship. Those things come, if come they can, of themselves. It +is such an ugly mistake to insist on giving every thing a name. Emotions +thrive so much better when they are nameless. We rightly label poisons, +but why should we label perfumes? I love a touch of the vague and of the +mysterious. It is the mystery-man who wins the woman. Direct +courtships--when found in novels--read well, but they are not advisable +in real life. Women like to upset well-laid plans by perverse and +counter movements. A man must always let a woman do a reasonable share +of the courting. I know so many men who have been courted outright by +their wives--of course in a gentle, womanly way. It is often done. I +have sometimes been so much interested in a man that I have fancied +myself at last in love. But it is always a fleet-footed fancy. Interest +and Love are not always the same--Robert Fairfield once interested me, +but I never loved him. + +I lead an ideal, independent life. I have no uncongenial family +ties. My wishes, yea, even my whims, find instant gratification, if +gratification is possible. I am just delicate enough to gain the +tenderest consideration from all who know me. My little social sins +gain the readiest forgiveness--from those who love me--and, in the eyes +of some, grow into positive virtues. I maybe outrageously tardy for an +engagement, or, without any particular reason, break it altogether, +yet be understood and upheld. Platitudes do not always understand, and +sometimes foolishly rebel. But it is of no use. I have a little way +of making them believe that it was actually they and not I who had +committed the offense. And they plead for _me_ to forgive _them!_ + +My modes of life are somewhat peculiar--at least commonplace persons +think them so. I give little lunches and dinners. I invite just +whomsoever I please. Now and then, for the sake of good form, and of the +good mother, I have regulation affairs, to which I bid the _society +regulars_--the so-called first and best set, who take invitations +as a matter of course, who consider themselves the social salt of the +earth, who go every where, and move about the houses of other people +as if they owned them. The _Society Regular_ is a well-dressed, +bad-mannered, somewhat disagreeable animal, devoid of innate delicacy, +and absolutely without gratitude. They are Platitudes of the first +water. They do not frequent my house. They never dine or lunch with +me, my Pleasures and other Platitudes. + +This regulation affair is generally and afternoon tea. I leave out my +retinue, the Kaleidoscopic Circle, and tell them about it afterward. My +Social Exquisites and my Social Drifters are _reformed regulars_--brands +snatched from the burning by me. Briefless Barristers delight me very +much. I have several interesting specimens in the legal line. It is +interesting to have "young men of great promise" around me. True, their +fees are small and few between, yet that enables them to see just that +much more of me. In the old days I used to read law with them; but I +have very wisely abandoned that little habit--it was tiresome. + +I have one or two Men Who Have Risen. They are crude, uncultured +creatures, but full of excellent points. One of them is a widower, +who made his large fortune killing hogs, and afterward canning peas, +tomatoes, etc. Of course he talks all the time about how he made his +money. I am always an attentive listener, and I verily believe that I +now have a practical knowledge of the hog business and canning interests +of the country. + +Men Unsuccessful look to me for new inspiration, new hope. They are +always interesting. They are mental fragments flung aside by God, and +by Him held down--so they tell me. They are bitter, cynical, and nearly +always dyspeptic. They are near of kin to my Sympathy Seekers, who are +pale, light-haired creatures, continually making appeals for sympathy. +But my Sympathy Finders are very near and dear to me. They are generally +silent, melancholy men. They are always bearable, unless they chance to +be in love with some other woman, and make me, along with a dozen other +people, their _one and only_ confidant. Then is my life made a +burden. I am privately interviewed on all occasions, the more +inopportune the better. I am cornered and made a vessel for his pent-up +feelings. I am told of her cruel treatment. I am told of her charms and +of her faults--principally not loving him. I am worked up into a nervous +state. My physical nature grants him tears, while my mental nature +speculates about the sincerity of his passion and just to how many +others he may have told the self-same story. Of course all this is +wearing, yet it is very interesting. + +Newspaper Reporters are a much-abused, downtrodden class. I have known +many, and I have yet to know one unworthy of a true woman's confidence. +Treat them as if they were dogs, and they will act like dogs--forever +barking and biting at your heels; but treat them like human beings, with +due and just consideration, and they will prove to you the wisdom of +your course. Newspaper Poets gather about me in a body. I have all +styles and gradations. They run the entire range from bad to fairly +good; but there is one who writes a most exquisite verse. He is a +tender, sympathetic, yet cynical man. Somehow he has slipped away. I was +not able to hold him, nor did I wish or even dare to keep him. He is +scornful of the world. He sees no reason why he should be here. He would +rather not have been born--if _he_ had been consulted. After all, +I may have idealized and overrated him. One of his rival poet friends +once told me that my favorite and favored verse-maker was an inveterate +poker-player and a continual loser! Ergo, the cynicism and scornfulness +of the world. But banish tawdry thought! + +Authors Private and Authors Public haunt my salon; men who have written +and printed "little things of their own" for "private circulation only;" +and men who have given their books to the world at large--generally to +the detriment of the world. They are full of twists and notions. They +seek me to gain admiration, and they do--for I am a generous person. +People Of The Army and People Of The Navy are valuable to have around, +for the sake of looks and manners. They never disappoint you. A man +who has been on an Arctic expedition is especially desirable. You get +material for a hero at small cost. I have one Arctic Explorer, and two +army men who have been stationed in Yellowstone Park, and who fought +with the dead Custer. My Bohemians are my chief delight, and they are +many. They give the brightest, strongest colors to my Kaleidoscopic +Circle. They give me new strength to fight the little battles and calms +of every-day life. They give me the halo and the aroma of a new +existence. This, in brief, the retinue. + +I seldom have--and less here of late than ever--a desire to marry. +To me marriage would be such an uncertain thing--a risk with so little +to gain. I am unwilling to relinquish my hold on the center of this +charming circle. As it is I am a possibility--unfulfilled, it is true, +yet a possibility--to twenty men or more. So I am unwilling to give +up _all_ of my Pleasures just for the sake of any _one_ particular +Pleasure, who might in six months, aye six days, reduce himself into +a miserable Platitude. I may and I may not be a great number of things; +but alas, above all, I am critical. Platitudes as Platitudes may +constantly afford even considerable interest, but Platitudes do not make +ideal husbands for women of my peculiar temperament and mental caliber. + +I would rather be a Queen of Possibilities reigning over many hearts +than a Queen of just one heart, and that one, perhaps, a most unworthy +heart. + +[Illustration: +Miss Lina Searlwood, +(of the Inner Sisterhood.)] + + + + + + + + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Inner Sisterhood, by Douglass Sherley et al. + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE INNER SISTERHOOD *** + +***** This file should be named 15179.txt or 15179.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/5/1/7/15179/ + +Produced by Kentuckiana Digital Library, David Garcia and the PG +Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net/ + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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