 | THE LORGNETTE. The lorgnette, or, Studies of the town |  |
JOURNAL OF A LADY IN SOCIETY.
Sit for our picture, and 'tis time to dine.”
J. Shirley.
Wednesday.—What a sweet man that Signor
Birbone is. But then pshaw! only a teacher! I
must dress particularly well to-night; am to meet
Kawton they say—a love of a name; and one of the
most fascinating men in society. Why don't Martel
send home that crimson head-dress? It's so becoming,
the J—s say; and I haven't worn it now
these three evenings. I think my voice is good to-night.
L— has promised to urge me to sing;
hope Strinski won't offer for the accompaniment;
he is so anxious that everybody should admire his
playing, that he never has done with his interludes.
Marie is getting careless about my hair; must
give her the porte monnaie that Stiver gave me the
other day, and if Figgins sends a bouquet to-day,
will let her carry it to the Minerva. What a dull
time this Lent! and black doesn't become me at
all; I can't look solemn without giving that bad
expression to my lip.
Thursday.—Well, what a time, to be sure!
Kawton is fascinating, very. How prettily he paid
that compliment about American women, so much
he looked very hard at my neck. (N. B. Must be
more careful about the pearl powder; Ma said
she saw it yesterday on my forehead.) And then
he polks so sweetly; I never felt easier in all my
life; I wonder if he has money? To be sure,
Mathilde says he's a great toady, but then he's a
club-man, and knows so many distinguished men, I
hardly know if I baited him enough:—to be sure,
I didn't ask him to call; but then I told him what
a delightful street this was, and that Papa said he
wouldn't live in any other—so delightful, too, to
be on a corner; surely he must remember.
Positively, I will not dance any more with that
odious Scratch. Papa says I must not treat him
rudely; he is very rich; but he waltzes so horribly,
and then his breath! As for marrying him, it's
another matter; but I needn't hurry; twenty-five
isn't very old; and I know I can catch the old fellow
any time. He is quite desperate, I am sure of
it. How I should like to stir up a quarrel between
him and F—; how they would talk!
Saw Noddle; he talks everlastingly; very well,
they say; but who wants to hear talk at a ball?
Besides, he admires every pretty girl he sees—the
puppy!
Monday.—Went yesterday to Grace with the
take a seat there; everybody listens so stupidly at
Dr. Hawks.' I do wish Strinski wouldn't talk
French to me in society; it's so embarrassing!
besides, there's no knowing who may hear you, and
you may make faults; caught myself tutoying
him the other evening, as if I had been talking to
Marie! how provoking; if it had been S—
wouldn't have cared; it might have set him on; he
is too modest.
Tuesday.—Was pale last night, but wore the
crimson head-dress, and took a seat near the scarlet
curtains. I must try and send to Paris for some
more of those gaiter boots, they are so pretty.
Marie has been trying to show me how to hold up
my dress as the French women do; it's difficult,
but then it's worth a little study.
What a handsome German teacher Miss Muggs
has got! I wonder if I had not better learn German?
I'll tell Papa that Dr. T— has recommended
it; besides, it's very well to sing snatches
from the German Opera; it gives an idea of cultivation.
I wonder where Mrs. Fidge gets that delightful
perfume, and then she never has too much;
must remember to let Marie smell me, before I go
out another evening. Miss Quiz asked me the
to be so attentive? Oh, I told her, we were capital
friends, better than ever,—and looked very conscious;
dare say she will think I've given him the
mitten; I do hope she will, for she is just the person
who will tell it all over town.
Thursday.—Walked up street the other day with
ex-President —. What a dear, good man! And
then such a feather to be seen walking with him.
The Hidges saw me, and looked daggers; the
Simpkins bowed two or three times; how very
friendly they are getting! I wonder if we girls
couldn't get up a class in reading with Prof. —;
they say he is so agreeable; and then it gives a
delightful chance to practice; one can ask such
funny questions, and all so honest. He isn't married
either, and if I could only get him desperate!
for they say these literary characters do get desperate;
and how delightful if he'd only propose,
and then go off in a consumption. Heigho—how
sleepy I am!
Friday.—I do wish that odious Miss Thingum
wouldn't be so familiar in the street; people will
begin to call us intimates, and I am sure she's over
forty. She's very kind, certainly, but I don't like
to invite her to my soirées, she is so matronizing
some rainy morning, and ask her if she won't come
and pass the day.
Sister Belle is beginning to be admired; how
strange, and she only sixteen!—must insist on her
wearing plainer clothes; must tell mamma that the
hat is altogether too gay for a person of her age.
Saturday.—Went to the Opera last night; Forti
was quite divine; at least M— said so, and
it's safe to say it. Mr. D— came to our box,
and chatted for half an hour,—a horrid creature;
strange that he can't learn how disagreeable he is,
and not at all tonnish; yet they say he is very
clever—quite an ornament at Miss L—s. It's
very well though, upon the whole, to have a chat;
it relieves the uniformity of one's face; besides, if
any one asks me who it was, I can say,—oh, he
says such clever things!
Saw Stroskinski in the Miggs' box; what a
moustache he has got! Must ask them to present
me; they say he is all the rage.
Tuesday.—Met the Miggs' at the party;—promised
to introduce Stroskinski, but didn't, though
they danced three sets with him. I suppose Mabel
wants to keep him to herself;—I'll pay her, the
minx!
Had to dance with that little puppy, Spindle;
amiable as a country girl. He hasn't got a leg bigger
than a pipe-stem,—and such a beard! Mean to
cut off a little fur from the cat, and send him for a
valentine—“mon chat, Monsieur, à votre chin.”
How it helps a flirtation to drink a little champagne.
Upon my word, I carried it off capitally last
night. What little squeezes one can give a gentleman's
hand; and then the polka after two or three
glasses—upon my word, it is charming! I must
get some of those brandy lozenges Miss Fidge told
me of; she says, they go straight to one's head.
I must learn, too, some more of those tender
French expressions from Marie; it's a sweet, pretty
language; have begun to read Raphael the third
time.
Wednesday.—How handsome Bidkins is; and
rich too, they say, but so shy. Danced the polka
with him last night; told him I adored it: but he
put his arm about me as if he were handling a
Vestal—yet I leaned on him very hard; how stupid
some men are! I think he must be a Presbyterian.
I told him I was engaged for the next waltz,
and asked him if he liked waltzing. He said he
did—`rather.' I can't hook him.
I do wish I knew those Fudges; they give such
delightful parties; everybody talks about them;
with them next summer; then I think I can
manage it, particularly if Pa takes his carriage;
I can get an introduction, and of course they won't
object to make a convenience of our carriage.
What a silly fellow Bunkum is. It's plain enough
he wants to please me, but he don't know how;—
only to think of his praising the Squids! To be
sure they are good friends of mine; but then they
are pretty, very pretty. And then, too, the idea
of disputing me about the pictures, and trying to
set me right,—the coxcomb! They say he has excellent
taste; for my part, I should like to see it.
Thursday.—Heigho—two bouquets; one from
little Fidge; what is the boy thinking of? I suppose
he's heard them talk at the club of sending
bouquets to belles; however, he is rich, and when
he grows up, will, I dare say, be good for something;—must
thank him kindly, and keep him in
tow. Besides, he is very useful; he never objects
to escort one—puts on shawls, and picks up the
pins that you drop, and will go back for your ball
slippers—oh no, it would be very ungrateful to
slight little Fidge!
As for the other bouquet, it has no card; who
can it be from? There's the handsome music
teacher, I wonder if he would dare? Well, I will
it isn't sweet—watch if his fingers tremble when
he takes it: and then I'll pull out a little flower
from it—a forget-me-not, if there is one—and put
it in my bosom. (Mem. to wear the open morning
dress, with lace.) The poor fellow, he'll hardly
have strength to get through his lesson! What if
he should make love to me upon the strength of it;
—how delightful!
I am not sure whether it is best to be confirmed;
Dr. H— urges me; but Miss Hicks, who is in
the best society, tells me not to be in a hurry. So
far as church attendance and devotion go, it's very
well; it offers good contrast to one's action at a
ball, and you get the good opinion of a great many
proper ladies of excellent families; but then on Ash
Wednesday, or any time in Lent, it may be very
inconvenient; mean to consult the Squids about it.
At any rate, I must buy a book of sermons to
have on a side table—get them bound up with a
little cross on the outside. I wonder if Dr. Griswold
hasn't written any good ones?
| THE LORGNETTE. The lorgnette, or, Studies of the town | |