Mr. and Mrs. Woodbridge with other tales, representing life as it is and intended to show what it should be |
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GENTILITY. |
 | Mr. and Mrs. Woodbridge |  |
GENTILITY.
BY T. S. ARTHUR.
“Didn't I see you walking up the street with
a young lady yesterday, William?” said Anna
Enfield to her brother, who had but a few days
before returned from New York, after an absence
of some months.
“Perhaps you did; I was in company with a
young lady in the afternoon,” replied the brother.
“Well, who was she? I did not see you until
after you had passed the store I was in, and then
I could not see her face.”
“It was Caroline Murry; you know her, I suppose.”
“Caroline Murry! Why, brother! what were
you doing in her company?” and Anna's face
expressed unfeigned astonishment.
“Why, really, you surprise me, sister! I hope
there is no blemish on her character. But what
is the matter? I feel concerned to know.”
“There's nothing much the matter, brother;
but, then, Caroline Murry is not genteel. We
don't think of keeping her company.”
“Indeed! and you don't associate with her because
she is not genteel. Well, if I am any judge
of gentility, Anna, Caroline Murry is about as
genteel and lady-like as any girl I know, always
excepting, of course, my own dear sister.”
“Why, brother, how you talk! You don't certainly
pretend to compare her with Ernestine
Eberly and Zepherine Fitzwilliams, whom you
have seen here several times?”
“No, I do not,” replied the brother, emphatically.
“Well, they're what I call genteel; and Caroline
Murry wouldn't be tolerated in the society
where they visit.”
“And why not, sister?”
“Havn't I told you? Because she is not considered
genteel; that is the reason.”
“But I don't understand what you consider
genteel, Anna. If I know what gentility means,
Caroline, as far as that is concerned, is in every
way superior to Ernestine Eberly and Zepherine
Fitzwilliams.”
“Now, William, that is too bad! If any other
man had said so to me, I would never have spoken
to him again as long as I lived.”
“But seriously, Anna, what do you mean by
gentility?” asked the brother.
“That's a question more easily asked than answered;
but you know, as well as I do, what is
meant by gentility. Every body knows.”
“I know what I mean by it, Anna. But it
seems that we don't agree on the subject; for I
call Caroline Murry genteel, and you don't: so
you see that different things may be called by the
same name. Now, what I wish to know is, what
precise meaning you attach to the word? or, why
you do not think Caroline genteel?”
“Why, in the first place, she don't go into genteel
company. People of the first rank won't associate
with her.”
Here ensued a pause, and the brother said —
“Well, why won't they associate with her,
Anna? I hope she has not been guilty of improper
or immoral conduct.”
“O, no! nothing of that. I never heard the
slightest reflection on her character,” replied the
sister. “But, then, genteel young ladies don't
work in the kitchen, like hired servants; and she
does. And, besides this, call on her when you
will, and she is always doing something. Why,
I am told that she has even been seen at the
chamber windows, fronting on the public street,
with her head tied up, sweeping and making the
her once, with the parlor windows open, sweeping
and dusting like a servant! Nobody is going
to associate, or be seen in the street with any one
who hasn't the spirit to be above the condition of
a hireling. And, besides this, whenever she was
invited to balls or parties, she never would stay
later than ten or eleven o'clock, which every one
knows to be vulgar. Somebody had to go home
with her, of course; and the choicest beau in the
company was almost sure to have his good nature
and his politeness taxed for this purpose. Once
I heard her say, that she considered the theatre
an unfit place for any young lady; she offended
the whole company, and has never been invited
to a party among genteel people since.”
“And is that all?” said William Enfield, taking
a long breath.
“Yes, and I should think that was enough, in
all conscience,” replied the sister.
“So should I, Anna, to make me respect her.”
“Why, William!”
“Why, Anna!”
“But seriously, William, you cannot be in
earnest?”
“And seriously, Anna, are you in earnest?”
“Of course I am.”
“Well, sister, I'm afraid my old fashioned notions,
for such I suppose you will call them, and
your new fangled notions, for such I must call
them, will not chime well together. All that I
have heard you allege against Caroline Murry,
raises, instead of lowering her in my estimation.
So far as a gentle, and truly lady-like deportment
is concerned, I think her greatly superior to the
two friends you have named as the pinks of gentility.”
Anna looked into the face of her brother for
some moments, her countenance exhibiting a
mingled expression of surprise and disappointment.
“But you are not going to walk with her in
the street any more, I hope,” she at length said.
“And why not, Anna?”
“Because, as I have said before, she is not
gen —”
“Genteel, you were going to say. But that
allegation, you perceive, Anna, has no weight
with me; I do not consider it a true one.”
“Well, we won't talk any more about it just
now, for it would be no use,” said the sister,
changing her voice and manner; “and so I will
change the subject. I want you to make a call
or two with me this morning.”
“On whom?”
“On Miss Eberly and Miss Fitzwilliams.”
“It wouldn't be right for me to do so, would
it? You know I don't consider them genteel,”
said the brother, with affected gravity.
“O nonsense, brother? why will you trifle so?”
“But, seriously, Anna, I do not consider that
those young ladies have any very strong claims
to gentility; and, like you, I have no wish to
associate with those who are not genteel.”
“If you talk in that way, William, I shall get
angry with you, I cannot hear my most intimate
friends spoken of so lightly; and, at the same time
accused of a want of gentility. You must remember
that you are reflecting upon your sister's
associates.”
“You must not, and I know you will not, get
angry with me, sister, for speaking plainly; and
you must do me the justice to believe that in
speaking as I do I am in earnest. And you must
also remember, that, in saying what you did of
Caroline Murry, you spoke of one with whom
your brother has associated, and with whom he
is still willing to associate.”
Anna looked very serious at this, nor could she
frame in her own mind a reply that was satisfactory
to her. At last she said —
“But, seriously, brother William, won't you
call on those young ladies with me?”
“Yes, on one condition.”
“Well, what is that?”
“Why, on condition that you will, afterwards,
call with me, and see Caroline Murry.”
“I cannot do that, William,” she replied, in a
positive tone.
“And why not, Anna?”
“I have already told you.”
“I cannot perceive the force of that reason,
Anna. But, if you will not go with me, I must
decline going with you. The society of Miss
Murry cannot be more repulsive to you, than is
that of the Misses Eberly and Fitzwilliams to me.”
“You don't know what you are talking about,
William.”
“That is my own impression about you. But
come, now, sister, let us both be rational to each
other. I am willing to go with you, if you will
go with me.”
“Yes, but, William, you don't reflect, that, in
doing as you desire me, I will be in danger of
losing my present position in society. Caroline
Murry is not esteemed genteel in the circle in
which I move, and if it should be known that I
visit her, I will be considered on a level with her.
I would do any thing to oblige you, but, indeed,
I would be risking too much here.”
“You would only be breaking loose,” replied
false notions of what is truly genteel. If any
one esteems you less for being kind, attentive,
and courteous, to one against whom suspicion has
never dared to breathe a word, and whose whole
life is a bright example of the pure and high-toned
principles that govern her, that one is unworthy
of your regard. True gentility does not exist, my
sister, merely in a studied and artificial elegance
of behavior, but in inward purity and taste, and a
true sense of what is right, all exhibiting themselves
in their natural external expression. The
real lady judges of others from what they are,
and neglects none but the wilfully depraved.
True, there are distinctions in society, and there
are lines of social demarcation — and all this is
right. But we should be careful into what social
sphere we are drawn, and how we suffer ourselves
to be influenced by the false notions of real worth
which prevail in some circles that profess a high
degree of gentility. I hold that every one, no
matter what may be his or her condition in life,
fails to act a true part if not engaged in doing
something that is useful. Let me put it to your
natural good sense, which do you think the most
deserving of praise, Caroline Murry, who spends
her time in `doing something' useful to her whole
family; or your friends, the Misses Eberly and
Fitzwilliams, and those constituting their particuler
never think of rendering any, and who carry their
prejudices so far as to despise those who work?”
Anna did not reply, and her brother said —
“I am in earnest, sister, when I say, that you
cannot confer a greater favor upon your brother,
than to go with him to see Caroline Murry. Cannot
I induce you to comply with my wishes?”
“I will go,” she replied to this appeal, and then
hurried away, evidently no little disturbed in her
feelings.
In half an hour she was ready, and, taking her
brother's arm, was soon on the way to Miss
Ernestine Eberly's residence. That young lady
received them with all the graces and fashionable
airs she could assume, and entertained them with
the idle gossip of the day, interspersed with an
occasional spice of envious and ill-natured remark.
Knowing that her brother was a close discriminator,
and knowing that he was by no means prepossessed
in her friends favor, Anna herself
observed her more narrowly, and, as it were, with
his eyes. It seemed to her that Miss Eberly never
was so uninteresting, or so mal-apropos in what
she said. The call on Zepherine Fitzwilliams
came next in turn. Scanning her also with other
eyes than her own, Anna was disappointed in her
very dear friend. She looked through her, and
was pained to see that there was a hollowness and
of character about her. Particularly was she displeased
at a gratuitous sneer thrown out at the
expense of Caroline Murry.
And now, with a reluctance which she could
not overcome, Anna turned with her brother,
towards the residence of the young lady who had
caste, because she had good sense and was industrious.
“I know my sister's lady-like character will
prompt her to right action, in our next call,” said
the brother, looking into Anna's face with an
encouraging smile.
She did not reply, yet she felt somehow or
other pleased with the remark. A few minutes
walk brought them to the door, and they were
presently ushered into a neat parlor in which was
the young lady they were seeking. She sat near
a window, and was sewing. She was plainly
dressed in comparison with the young ladies just
called upon; but in neatness, and in all that constitutes
the lady in air and appearance, in every
way their superior.
“I believe you know my sister,” said Enfield,
on presenting Anna.
“We have met a few times,” she replied with
a pleasant, unembarrassed smile, extending at the
same time her hand.
Miss Enfield took the offered hand with less
reluctance than she had imagined she could, but
a few hours before. Somehow or other, Caroline
seemed to her to be very much changed for the
better in manner and appearance. And she could
not help, during all the visit, drawing contrasts
between her and the two very dear friends she
had just called upon; and the contrast was in no
way favorable to the latter. The conversation
was on topics of ordinary interest, but did not
once degenerate into frivolity or censoriousness.
Good sense manifested itself in almost every sentence
that Caroline uttered, and this was so apparent
to Anna, that she could not help frequently
noticing and involuntarily approving it. “What
a pity,” Anna once or twice remarked to herself,
“that she will be so singular.”
The call was but a brief one. Anna parted
with Caroline under a different impression of her
character than she had ever before entertained.
After her return with her brother, he asked her
this abrupt question.
“Which of the young ladies, Anna, of the three
we called upon this morning, would you prefer to
call your sister?”
Anna looked up, bewildered and surprised, into
the face of her brother, for a few moments, and
then said;
“I don't understand you, brother William.”
“Why, I thought I asked a very plain question.
But I will make it plainer. Which one of the
three young ladies we called upon this morning,
would you advise me to marry?”
“Neither,” replied Anna promptly.
“That is only jumping the question,” he said,
smiling. “But, to corner you so that there can
be no escape, I will confess that I have made up
my mind to marry one of the three. Now tell
me which you would rather it would be.”
“Caroline Murry, said Anna, emphatically,
while her cheeks burned, and her eyes became
slightly suffused.
William Enfield did not reply to the hoped for,
though rather unexpected admission, but stooping
down, he kissed her glowing cheek, and whispered
in her ear,
“Then she shall be your sister, and I know
you will love one another.”
He said truly. In a few months he claimed
Caroline Murry as his bride, and her good sense,
and winning gentleness of character, influenced
Anna, and effectually counteracted the false notions
which were beginning to corrupt a good
heart and to overshadow a sound judgment. It
was not long before she was fully sensible of the
real difference which there was between the character
wife; and also between true and false gentility.
Although Caroline Murry had been proscribed by
a certain circle in which false pride, instead of
principle, was the governing motive, she had still
been esteemed among those who knew how to
look beyond the surface. As the wife of Enfield,
she at once took a position in circles where those
who had passed her by as unworthy would have
sought in vain for admission, and in those circles
she shone as a bright particular star.
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