Lippincott'S Magazine Of Popular Literature And Science, Volume 26 December, 1880., Various None [best books to read for beginners .txt] 📗
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Erminia.--Do You Like My Name, Mr. Farquhar? We Have Strange Names In
America, English People Are Pleased To Say.--Victor!" She Went On,
Calling To The Chasseur Without Pausing For Any Reply, "Stop At Some
Place Where They Sell Candy. Mr. Farquhar Will Get Out And Buy Us Some."
Obediently To Her Order, We Stopped At A Confectioner'S. I Was Directed
To Put My Hand Into The Carriage-Pocket, Where I Should Find Some
"Loose Change," Kept There For Candy And The Hurdy-Gurdy Boys. Then I
Was Directed To Go Into The "Store" And Choose A Pound Of All Sorts Of
"Mixed Candy."
I Had Not More Than Made Myself Intelligible To A Young Person Behind
The Counter When The Carriage-Door Was Opened And Both The Girls Came
In, Miss Hermione Declaring That She Knew I Should Be Embarrassed By The
Multitude Of "Sweeties," And That I Should Need Their Experience To Know
What I Was About.
With Dawdling, Laughing And Good-Comradeship We Chose Our Bonbons, And
Getting Back Into The Barouche We Proceeded To Crunch Them As We Drove
On To Monceaux. It Was Like Being Children Over Again, With A Slight
Sense Of Being Out Of Bounds. I Had Never Seen Confectionery Eaten
Wholesale In That Fashion. Such Bonbons Were Expensive, Too. Trained In
The Personal Economy Of English Middle-Class Life, It Would Never Have
Occurred To Me To Buy Several Francs' Worth Of Sugar-Plums And To Eat
Them By The Handful. But As The Fair American Sat Before Me, Smiling,
Volume 26 Title 1 (Lippincott'S Magazine Of Popular Literature And Science) Pg 53Laughing, Petting Amy And Saying Fascinating Impertinences To Myself, I
Thought I Had Never Seen So Bewitching A Creature. Her Frame, Though
_Svelte_ And Admirably Proportioned, Gave Me An Idea Of Vigor And
Strength Not Commonly Associated At That Time With The Girls Of America.
Her Complexion, Too, Was Healthy: She Was Not So Highly Colored As An
English Country Girl, But Her Skin Was Bright And Clear. Her Face Was A
Perfect Oval, Her Hair Glossy And Dark, Her Eyes Expressive Hazel. Her
Points Were All Good: Her Ears, Her Hands, Her Feet, Her Upper Lip And
Nostrils Showed Blood, And The Daintiness And Taste Of Her Rich Dress
Seemed To Denote Her Good Taste And Fine Breeding. My Sisters, Could Not
Tie Their Bonnet-Strings As She Tied Hers, Nor Were Their Dresses
Anything Like Hers In Freshness, Fit Or Daintiness Of Trimming.
We Alighted At Last At Old Monceaux, And Walked About Its Solemn Alleys.
Sometimes Miss Leare Talked Sense, And Talked It Well. Those Were
Exciting Days In Paris. It Was February, 1848, And A Great Crisis Was
Nearer At Hand In Politics Than We Suspected; Besides Which There Had
Been Several Events In Private Life Which Had Increased The General
Excitement Of The Period--Notably The Murder Of Marshal Sebastiani'S
Daughter, The Poor Duchesse De Praslin. Hermione Could Talk Of These
Things With Great Spirit, But Sometimes Relapsed Into Her Grown-Up
Childishness. She Talked, Too, With Animation Of The Freedom And
Happiness Of Her American Girlhood. My Sister Amy Had Always Taken Life
_Au Grand Serieux_; Ellen Was A Little Too Prompt To Flirt With Officers
And Gay Young Men, And Needed Repression; Laetitia Went In For
Book-Learning, And Measured Every One By What She Called Their
"Educational Opportunities." My Sisters Were As Different As Possible
From This Butterfly Creature, Who Seemed To Sip Interest And Amusement
Out Of Everything.
At The End Of Two Hours We Drove Back To Mrs. Leare'S Hotel, Which Was
Opposite Our Own Apartment In The Rue Neuve De Berri, The Hotel That A
Few Weeks Later Was Occupied By Prince Jerome. Here Hermione Insisted
Upon Our Coming In While The Carriage Drove To The Dentist'S For Her
Mother.
The Reception-Rooms In Mrs. Leare'S Hotel Were Very Showy. They Were
Filled With Buhl And Knick-Knacks Gathered On All Parts Of The
Continent, And Lavishly Displayed, Not Always In Good Keeping. A Little
Sister, Claribel, Came Running Up To Us When We Entered, And Clung
Fondly To Hermione, Who Sat Down At The Erard Grand Piano And Sang To
Us, Without Suggestion, A Gay Little French Song. She Was Taking
Lessons, Amy Afterward Told Me, Of The Master Most In Vogue In Paris And
Of All Others The Most Expensive. Amy, Who Could Sing Well Herself,
Disparaged Hermione'S Voice To Me, And Sighed As She Thought Of The
Waste Of Those Inestimable Lessons.
Then Miss Hermione Lifted The Top Of An Ormolu Box On The Chimney-Piece
Of A Boudoir And Showed Amy And Me, Under The Rose As It Were, Some
Cigarettes, With A Laugh. "Mamma'S," She Said: "She Has A _Faiblesse_
That Way."
"Oh, Hermione! You Don'T?" Cried Amy.
"No, _I_ Don'T," Said Hermione More Gravely.
I Was So Amused By Her, So Fascinated, So Completely At My Ease With
Volume 26 Title 1 (Lippincott'S Magazine Of Popular Literature And Science) Pg 54Her, That I Could Have Stayed On Without Taking Note Of Time Had Not Amy
Remembered That It Was Our Dinner-Hour. We Took Our Leave, And Met Mrs.
Leare On The Staircase Ascending To Her Apartment. She Greeted Amy With
As Much Effusion As Was Compatible With Her Ideas Of Fashion, And Said
She Was "Right Glad" To Hear We Had Been Passing The Morning With
Hermione.
"I Wish You Would Come Very Often. I Like Her To See English Girls: You
Do Her So Much Good, Amy.--Mr. Farquhar, We Shall Hope To See You Often
Too. I Have A Little Reception Here Every Sunday Evening."
With That She Continued Her Course Up Stairs, And We Descended To The
Porte-Cochere.
She Was A Faded Woman, "Dressed To Death," As Amy Phrased It, And None
Of My People Had A Good Word For Her.
"The Leares Are Rolling In Riches, I Believe," Remarked My Father, "And
An American Who Is Rich Has No Hereditary Obligations To Absorb His
Wealth, So That It Becomes All 'Spending-Money,' As Miss Hermione Says.
The Head Of The Family--King Leare I Call Him--Stays At Home In Some
Sort Of A Counting-Room In New York And Makes Money, Giving Mrs. Leare
And Miss Hermione _Carte Blanche_ To Spend It On Any Follies They
Please. I Never Heard Anything Exactly Wrong Concerning Mrs. Leare, But
She Does Not Seem To Me The Woman To Be Trusted With That Very Nice
Young Daughter. I Feel Great Pity For Miss Leare."
"Miss Leare Has Plenty Of Sense And Character," Said My Mother: "I Do
Not Think Her Mother'S Queer Surroundings Seem To Affect Her In any Way.
She Moves Among The Frenchmen, Poles And Italians Of Her Mother'S Court
Like That Lady Shakespeare--Or Was It Spenser?--Wrote About Among The
Fauns And Satyrs. With All Her American Freedom She Avoids Improprieties
By Instinct. I Have No Fears For Her Future If She Marries The Right
Man."
"Indeed, Mamma," Said Amy, "I Wish She Would Keep More Strictly Within
The Limit Of The Proprieties. She Makes Me Nervous All The Time We Are
Together."
"My Dear, You Never Heard Her Breathe A Really Unbecoming Word Or Saw
Her Do An Immodest Thing?" Said My Mother Interrogatively.
"Oh No, Of Course Not," Said Amy.
"They Say Mrs. Leare Wants To Marry Her To That Neapolitan Marquis Who
Is So Often There," Put In ellen. "_On Dit_, She Will Have A _Dot_ Of
Two Millions Of Francs, Or, As They Call It, Half A Million Of Dollars."
"Such A Rumor," I Broke In, Rather Annoyed By This Turn In The
Conversation, "May Well Buy Her The Right To Be A Marchioness If She
Will."
"Indeed It Won'T, Then," Said Ellen Sharply, "For She Thinks Americans
Should Not 'Fix' Themselves Permanently Abroad. She Says She Means To
Marry One Of Her Own Folks, As She Calls Her Countrymen."
"She Knows An Infinite Variety Of Things, And Has Had All Kinds Of
Volume 26 Title 1 (Lippincott'S Magazine Of Popular Literature And Science) Pg 55Masters," Sighed Laetitia: "She Speaks All The Languages In europe. I
Believe Americans Have A Peculiar Facility For Pronunciation, Like The
Russians, And She Learned At Her School In america Philosophy, Rhetoric,
Logic, Latin, Algebra, Chemistry."
"I Wonder She Should Be So Sweet A Woman," Said My Father. "She Seems A
Good Girl--I Never Took Her For A Learned One--But Her Mother Is A Fool,
And I Should Think Her Father Must Be That Or Worse. I Wonder What He
Can Be Like? It Seems To An Englishman So Strange That A Man Should Stay
At Home Alone For Years, And Suffer His Wife And Family To Travel All
Over The Continent Without Protection."
Though My Father, Mother And Sisters Declined The Sunday Invitation Of
Mrs. Leare, I Went To Her Reception. The Guests Were Nearly All
Italians, Poles, Spaniards Or Frenchmen. There Was No Englishman
Present, But Myself, And Only One Or Two Americans. I Felt At Once How
Out Of Place My Mother, The Country Matron, And My Father, _Ce
Respectable Viellard,_ Would Have Been In Such A Circle. But Mrs.
Leare'S Guests Were Not The _Jeunesse Doree_ Nor The Dubious Nobility I
Had Expected To Meet In Her _Salon_. The Frenchmen Among Them Were All
Men Whose Names Were Familiar In French Political Circles--Men Of
Revolutionary Tendencies And Of Advanced Opinions. I Afterward
Discovered They Had Taken Advantage Of Mrs. Leare'S Desire To Be The
Head Of A Salon To Use Her Rooms As A Convenient Rendezvous. It Was Safe
Ground On Which To Simmer Their Revolutionary Cauldron. It Was Seething
And Bubbling That Night, Although Neither The Leares Nor Myself Were
Aware Of What Was Brewing. The Talk Was All About The Banquets,
Especially The Impending Reform Banquet In The Rue Chaillot. The
Gentlemen Present Were Not Exactly Conspirators: They Were For The Most
Part Political Reformers, Who, Being Cut Off From The Usual Modes Of
Expressing Themselves Through A Recognized Parliamentary Opposition Or
By The Medium Of Petition, Had Devised A System Of Political Banquets,
Some Fifty Of Which Had Already Been Held In The Departments, And They
Were Now Engaged In Getting One Up In Paris In The Twelfth
Arrondissement.
At That Time, In a Population Of Thirty-Five Millions, There Were But A
Quarter Of A Million Of French Voters, And As In France All Places (From
That Of A Railroad Guard To A Seat On The Bench) Were Disposed Of By The
Government, It Was Very Easy For Ministers To Control The Legislature. A
Reform, Really Needed In The Franchise, Was The Object Proposed To
Themselves By The Original Heads Of The Revolution Of 1848, Though When
They
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