University of Virginia Library

AFTER German Philosophy and Hamilton's Metaphysics,
it is a great relief to have introduced into
the family an entirely new element — a character
the dissection of which is at once a novelty
and a recreation. It is absolutely refreshing, and I find
myself returning to my books with increased vigor after
an encounter with that unsophisticated, innocent-minded
creature, our sister-in-law Mrs. Wilford Cameron. Such
pictures as Juno and I used to draw of the stately personage
who was one day coming to us as Wilford's wife, and of
whom even mother was to stand in awe. Alas, how hath
our idol fallen! And still I rather like the little creature,
who, the very first night, nearly choked mother to death,
giving her lace streamers a most uncomfortable twitch,
and actually kissing father — a thing I have not done
since I can remember. But then the Camerons are all a
set of icicles, encased in a refrigerator at that. If we were
not, we should thaw out, when Katy leans on us so affectionately
and looks up at us so wistfully, as if pleading
for our love. Wilford does wonders; he used to be so
grave, so dignified and silent, that I never supposed he
would bear having a wife meet him at the door with cooing
and kisses, and climbing into his lap right before us
all. Juno says it makes her sick, while mother is dreadfully
shocked; and even Will sometimes seems annoyed,
gently shoving her aside and telling her he is tired.

After all, it is a query in my mind whether it is not
better to be like Katy than like Sybil Grandon, about
whom Juno was mean enough to tell her the first day of
her arrival.

“Very pretty, but shockingly insipid,” is Juno's verdict
upon Mrs. Wilford, while mother says less, but looks a
great deal more, especially when she talks about “my
folks,” as she did to Mrs. Gen. Reynolds the first time
she called. Mother and Juno were so annoyed, while

Will looked like a thunder cloud, when she spoke of
Uncle Ephraim saying so and so. He was better satisfied
with Katy in Europe, where he was not known, than
he is here, where he sees her with other people's eyes.
One of his weaknesses is a too great reverence for the
world's opinion, as held and expounded by our very
fashionable mother, and as in a quiet kind of way she
has arrayed herself against poor Katy, while Juno is
more open in her acts and sayings, I predict that it will
not be many months before he comes to the conclusion
that he has made a mésalliance, a thing of which no Cameron
was ever guilty.

I wonder if there is any truth in the rumor that Mrs.
Gen. Reynolds once taught a district school, and if she
did, how much would that detract from the merits of her
son, Lieutenant Bob. But what nonsense to be writing
about him. Let me go back to Katy, to whom Mrs. Gen.
Reynolds took at once, laughing merrily at her naïve
speeches, as she called them—speeches which made Will
turn black in the face, they betrayed so much of rustic
life and breeding. I fancy that he has given Katy a
few hints, and that she is beginning to be afraid of him,
for she watches him constantly when she is talking, and
she does not now slip her hand into his as she used to
when guests are leaving and she stands at his side;
neither is she so demonstrative when he comes up from
the office at night, and there is a look upon her face
which was not there when she came. They are “toning
her down,” mother and Juno, and to-morrow they are
actually going to commence a systematic course of training
preparatory to her début into society, said début to
occur on the night of the —, when Mrs. Gen. Reynolds
gives the party talked about so long. I was present
when they met in solemn conclave to talk it over, mother
asking Will if he had any objections to Juno's instructing
his wife with regard to certain things of which she
was ignorant. Will's forehead knit itself together at
first, and I half hoped he would veto the whole proceeding,
but after a moment he replied,

“No, provided Katy is willing. Her feelings must not
be hurt.”

“Certainly not,” mother said. “Katy is a dear little

creature, and we all love her very much, but that does
not blind us to her deficiencies, and as we are anxious
that she should fill that place in society which Mrs.
Wilford Cameron ought to fill, it seems necessary to
tone her down a little before her first appearance at a
party.”

To this Will assented, and then Juno went on to enumerate
her deficiencies, which, as nearly as I can remember,
are these: She laughs too much and too loud; is
too enthusiastic over novelties; has too much to say
about Silverton and “my folks;” quotes Uncle Ephraim
and sister Helen too often, and is even guilty at times of
mentioning a certain Aunt Betsy, who must have floated
with the ark, and snuffed the breezes of Ararat. She
does not know how to enter, or cross, or leave a room
properly, or receive an introduction, or, in short, to do
anything according to New York ideas, as understood
by the Camerons, and so she is to be taught—toned down,
mother called it—dwelling upon her high spirit as something
vulgar, if not absolutely wicked. How father
would have sworn, for he calls her his little sunbeam, and
says he never should have gained so fast if she had not
come with her sunny face, and lively, merry laugh, to
cheer his sick room. Katy has a fast friend in him.
But mother and Juno—well, I shall be glad if they do
not annihilate her altogether, and I am surprised that
Will allows it. I wonder if Katy is really happy with
us. She says she is, and is evidently delighted with
New York life, clapping her hands when the invitation
to Mrs. Reynolds's party was received, and running with
it to Wilford as soon as he came home. It is her first
big party, she says, she having never attended any except
that little sociable in Boston, and those insipid
school-girl affairs at the seminary. I may be conceited
—Juno thinks I am—but really and truly, Bell Cameron's
private opinion of herself is that at heart she is
better than the rest of her family, and so I pity this
little sister of ours, while at the same time I am exceedingly
anxious to be present whenever Juno takes
her in hand, for I like to see the fun. Were she at
all bookish, I should avow myself her champion, and
openly defend her; but she is not, and so I give her

into the hands of the Philistines, hoping they will, at
least, spare her hair, and not worry her life out on that
head. It is very becoming to her, and several young
ladies have whispered their intention of trying its effect
upon themselves, so that Katy may yet be a leader of
the fashion.