2. CHAPTER II.
MRS. Emily Wharton was the most charming
bride that had been led to the altar, in
Philadelphia, during the winter of 1838. Her
husband, Percy Wharton, was a young gentleman
of fortune, just from his travels in
Europe, where he had first seen his future
bride. They were a noble pair, and nature
as well as fortune had made them worthy of
each other. Percy was generous, high-spirited,
and the soul of honorable feeling. Travel
had not spoiled, but improved him. It had
elevated his character, and given him a healthy
knowledge not only of mankind but of
himself. He was amiable to a fault, and not
less distinguished for the quiet, gentlemanly
tone of his manners, than for his learning
and good sense. Emily—how shall I describe
her? Let the reader imagine the loveliest
young bride he or she had ever beheld,
and they will form some notion of the exquisite
grace and beauty of Mrs. Emily Wharton.
But, then, this lovely young bride
must have hair, black as the raven's wing,
and eyes, dark as midnight, with long shadowy
lashes, just subduing, not veiling their
brilliancy. She should have a complexion
something between a Spanish girl's and a
blonde, but more favoring the Spanish, with
dark, arched brows, contrasting, but, harmonizing,
with a pleasing forehead not so white
as Parian marble, but softer and far more
beautiful. She should have an exquisite profile—not
Grecian—not Italian—but American
—that lovely, delicate outline of the face so
peculiar to beautiful American females, which
possesses all the regular chisseling of the
Grecian beau ideal without its hardness. Her
nose, too, should be the least bit in the world
retrousse, and with the most charming mouth
she should have a sweet, sparkling smile,
which should display a set of the most brilliant
teeth that ever gave richness to the smile
of beauty. Such was the face of Emily
Wharton. Her figure was moulded like that
of a youthful goddess, superb and Juno-like.
She dressed with perfect taste, which, altogether,
united with her beautiful face, won
for her the praise of being the finest and
most lovely shaped woman in Philadelphia.
She was clever (in the English sense) without
being a blue, and her conversation was
full of wit and vivacity. She had a good
share of plain common sense, and but very
little vanity. If she was vain of anything it
was of her handsome husband, to whom she
had been now four months married, and—of
her beautiful teeth.
