ing myself most fortunate of cripplesan object of compassion to the stately Laura, the graceful Carrie, the dimpled Emma, to Olivia the gazelle-eyed, to the rosy-mouthed Julia, the golden-haired Helen-oddly enough there was still another face, to me more attractive than either of these, which hovered about me, full of simple sweetness, seeming to offer, again and again, the cup of pure fresh water of which I had drank so thankfully in the railroad shanty. More than once the same sweet countenance had appeared to me, in the troubled dreams of the last three months; oftener still in the twilight hours at the Stumpery; and it always came, picture-like, framed in the simple straw hat and the light shawl on which my eye had been intently fixed at the fatal moment of the collision. I remember that, during this first solitary evening in Thirtieth street, as I sat pondering over the changes of the last few months, and listening to the rolling carriages which were, at the moment, bringing hundreds of fashionable per

sonages to fill Mrs. Glittery's magnificent saloons, that kindly face seemed moving about me more distinct and lifelike than usual. "Pshaw!" said I to myself at length; "what a fool I am! What business have I, of all men, to be thinking of sweet countenances?" and, resolved to be rational, I sternly bade the gentle face begone! Meekly as Griselda of old, it faded away, and I took up that antidote to all romancethe evening paper.

The following morning, in obedience to a kind invitation to that effect, I paid my court to the ladies' "snuggery," as my uncle called their morning-room. Some such "snuggery" Aspasia or Cleopatra may have occupied. Not, however, that the atmosphere was in the least classical or Grecian, never, assuredly were there ladies less "blue" than the Misses Frippery- they were all pure rose-color. Such was the extreme elegance of the apartment, the luxurious splendor of the tout ensemble, that when Enrique, the mulatto page, open

ed its gilded doors, I actually stood for a moment bewildered. Draperies of rose-colored velvet, moire-antique and lace, carpets of the richest French tapestry, mirrors so vast as to produce a magic mirage of fashion, Italian marbles and mosaics, Sevres porcelains, ivory, ebony, papier-maché, rosewood and mother of pearl-how can a clown like myself do justice to such exquisite richness of detail? Imagine, moreover, half-a-dozen beautiful girls robed in the most delicate webs and woofs ever appropriated to a morning-dress, daintily frilled, laced, ribboned to the top most height of the very latest halfhour's caprice of the mode, and you may comprehend the dazzling effect likely to be produced on a rustic dog of a bachelor.

"And do you really deign to receive in your bower, lovely ladies, an uncouth four-legged monster, like myself!" I exclaimed, in reply to a gracious greeting.

Half-a-dozen diamond rings, on páte d'amande fingers, were immediately extended towards me in the most amiable manner; a vast lounging-chair, elaborately carved, was wheeled towards me, and, in another moment, I sank half smothered among eider-down and pink velvet.

"We are not only glad to see you, but you have come very opportunely. You can give us some advice," observed the beautiful Laura.

66

Legal advice? All my little knowledge and experience shall revive in your behalf."

"Oh, this is a question more interesting than anything in your stupid law-books-"

"The choice of a new novel, perhaps, for the morning reading?"

"Oh no; we always read the last novel, good, bad, or, indifferent. If it is new, you know, that is all one cares for in a story."

66

How, then, can I serve you? Is Monmouth ailing?" I inquired, looking down at the little King Charles lying at her feet, on a velvet cushion embroidered with Roman pearls.

"No, thank you; the little darling is quite well to-day. It is on a point of taste that I wish to consult you."

"My taste is highly flattered! In what department of æsthetics, pray, is its nicety to be tried?"

"Nothing of that kind; it is a ques

tion of the toilet," replied the fair creature, with more animation than she had yet shown.

66

"Ah, that is even more alarming than law or physic. I am a terrible ignoramus in such matters. But, perhaps, that is just what you are wishing for-a natural common-sense opinionI can play Molière's old woman on the occasion, if this is all you require."

The fair Laura looked a little puzzled. Molière's old woman was evidently not on her visiting list-and I fancy she suspected both common-sense and myself of being rather vulgar. She graciously condescended, however, to explain herself more fully. A fancy ball, long announced by a fashionable lady, was drawing near. The boudoir looked much like the show-room of a great millinery; it was littered with finery of all kinds-silks, satins, velvets, laces, feathers, flowers, were thrown about on tables and chairs in rich confusion. The characters had already been chosen. The superb Laura was to be Night--in black velvet and diamonds. The bright and rosy Julia, would appear as Morning-in tulle and pearls. The tiny Emma was to be Queen of the Fairies, in lace and silver; while the remaining three had chosen court-beauties of past centuries. A choice of characters, however, was an easy matter, compared with a choice of dresses-so, at least, I discovered on this occasion. The boudoir was soon in a perfect hubbub of girlish flutter and chatter. The novelty of the thing amused me exceedingly; from the dusty law-office in Nassau street, or the turnip-field at the Stumpery, the change was great indeed! The young ladies looked charmingly, and I scarcely knew when to admire them most, whether in their elegant Parisian morning-dresses, or in the brilliant magnificence of the costumes preparing for the fête. Sparkling eyes were gleaming on me, rosy lips were smiling in every direction, as I sat there enthroned in the velvet chair, arbiter elegantiarum.

Never had I seen these young creatures in greater beauty, or more charmingly animated, the eagerness of discussion, as one piece of lace or ribbon after another passed from hand to hand, brought out more variety of expression than I had hitherto believed to exist in some of those pretty faces. It soon became evident that Laura was the ruling

spirit; to her decision, as to a court of appeals, all was finally referred. Olivia might have an exquisite eye for colors, Julia was the most knowing in laces, Carrie was strong on trimmings, still it was Laura who held the casting vote, who pronounced the final decision on every point. There was a depth of knowledge, a fund of experience and observation, in the lightest of her comments on these important subjects, that excited my admiration. There was science in the disposition of every knot of ribbon, of each bit of fringe. The Misses Frippery, as Olivia observed to me, were generally considered the very best dressers in New York; but while the public at large could judge of general effects only, it was for me, lucky dog, introduced behind the scenes, free of the green-room as it were, to watch the gradual progress and development of this branch of high art.

A very agreeable morning I had, at this first introduction to the boudoir, we laughed, and flirted, and chattedweighed, and measured, and pondered, and reflected-the fair creatures made themselves very merry over my ignorance, which was indeed lamentable, where silks and laces were concerned, but, thanks to a severe lesson from Julia and Emma, I was taught to distinguish between Honiton and Valenciennes, during the course of the morning.

Our next day's séance was a protracted one, and very arduous indeed. We were thrown into great dismay and agitation on several points of the last importance. The piece of silver tissue destined to form the under skirt of the

Queen of the Fairies-the upper robe being gauze--fell short by half a yard of the necessary quantity!

"Oh! oh! oh! What shall I do, my dear cousin Tom! Only think, full half a yard wanting! And such a lovely tissue, the only piece in town, too!" exclaimed the rosy-lipped Emma, every dimple gone, and a frown of horror appearing on her beautiful brow. I had heard of "cutting a coat according to the cloth," and suggested that possibly a skirt might be managed in the same way. I wish you could have seen Laura's expression, it was sublime in its contempt for an utterly unworthy sentiment. Rachel might have envied it.

"Never! With my consent, never!" she exclaimed emphatically. "Never shorten a skirt, or narrow it one half inch beyond the best fashion of the hour! Don't think of it, if you love me, Emma. Rather give up the whole dress and character at once. I should die of mortification at seeing a sister of mine in anything skimped

Emma gave a deep sigh of despair, in which we all sympathized. The French dress-maker, however, advancing from the group of assistants, somewhat relieved our anxiety: "Le chagrin de mademoiselle est vraiment touchant!" she observed, adding that possibly a few yards of the same material might still be found at Charleston, where a piece had been sent by their house a month earlier. Instantly those useful institutions of modern times, telegraph, express, and post-office, were put in requisition, to supply the missing

breadth for the Fairy Queen's robe, and we breathed more freely.

But a severe trial awaited Laura, too. "Night" was to appear in a black velvet robe, garnished with black lace and diamonds-lace and diamonds were already provided; both, it is needless to say, of the richest fabric and the purest water. A magnificent piece of velvet had been seen at Beck's a day or two earlier, and, with her usual decision, Laura had instantly ordered it home; but the order had most unaccountably been misunderstood; no velvet appeared, and to-day the mortifying intelligence arrived that some lady, on a shopping excursion from Baltimore, had carried off the entire piece. Conceive our just indignation if you can! That an order so positively given, an order of Miss Frippery, should thus be neglected, was past comprehension. In vain were all apologies and explanations -in vain were twenty pieces of very rich velvets, from the principal warehouses in town, unrolled and displayed; the beauty was not to be appeased. True to her noble feelings, she scorned even to touch, with her taper finger, any inferior fabric. The lost piece was generally admitted to have been unrivaled, a richer velvet had never yet crossed the ocean, and nothing, a shade less perfect, would Laura condescend to wear. It was impossible not to admire Laura as she stood in tragic dignity the centre of a sympathizing circle; her beautiful figure swelling with proud displeasure; her fine head turned in wrath towards the luckless apologizing clerk; her magnificent eyes flashing with indignation. Again the French lady came to our relief. Send to Paris, she proposed. Six weeks must still elapse before the fête of Madame In six weeks a velvet equally rich with that mademoiselle had lost might arrive in New York. True, the time was short; true, also, that velvets of that highly superior quality were extremely rare even in Paris; still she felt convinced that, within six weeks, a piece, equally faultless with that now enriching the wardrobe of the Baltimore dame, might even be manufactured, and reach Thirtieth street in time for the great occasion. This was tolerably satisfactory, though a certain degree of anxiety must still be felt. O, for the submarine telegraph! Why was it not in activity for this our great emergency! Some ad

ditional annoyances were also experienced, on this occasion, with regard to a promised fan, surpassingly beautiful, intended to complete the costume of Nell Gwynn, represented by Helen, and a huge old-fashioned watch and pocketglass required to finish the dress of Olivia, who was to appear as Marguerite de Valois. If the choice of these last characters should surprise the readlet him not confess the sensation. "Nonsense, Tom, we mean no harm. What are the characters to us? The dress, as you very well know, is all we care for, and we have set our hearts on these very costumes. You are altogether too prudish at the Stumpery," exclaimed Olivia, in reply to a very subdued and kind hint of mine on this point.

er,

Hobbling into the boudoir the following morning, I found the young ladies engaged in a very animated discussion. "Berthe," "bretelles," "bretelles,"

66

66

with nœudlets-white satin nœudlets, with a pearl edge, a Tom Thumb tassel drooping from each, and just touching the row of Honiton inserting, within which ran a galon satiné, taste width!" Berthe,' bretelles," Honiton," "Tom Thumb tassels," "noudlets," 66 'bretelles," "berthe,” “Maltese,” was the rather confused chorus in which the other sisters joined. The last word caught Laura's attention.

"Maltese! My dear Olivia, the second row was Honiton!"

"Maltese," "Honiton," "Honiton," "second row," "first row,' 99 66 Maltese," "second row," "third row," "Maltese," "Maltese," uttered the chorus.

66

You are certainly mistaken, Laura the second row was Maltese, and the third Honiton,"-repeated Olivia again, with some decision.

"My dear Olivia! where were your eyes! The second row was Honiton, of a most delicate rose-bud pattern, the most perfect Honiton inserting I ever beheld."

Like Greek tragedy, the conversations in the boudoir were often kept up chiefly between two interlocutors, generally Laura and Olivia, the attendant sisters forming the necessary chorus.

"Please bear in mind that I danced in the same quadrille with Jane, and I could not keep my eyes off her berthe. It was the loveliest thing in the room!" "More lovely than the fair wearer?" I ventured to inquire.

Laura opened her beautiful eyes in unfeigned astonishment.

"Jane Stevenson is not in the least pretty-in fact, very plain," she replied. "I have not the honor of her acquaintance."

"She is Henry Stevenson's sistercousin of John Stevenson."

Henry Stevenson was an excessively stupid and hideously ugly fellow, but a favorite partner of Carrie Frippery's. He was worth a million or two. John Stevenson, a clever young lawyer, was a hopeless admirer of Emma's. He was so poor he could scarcely pay his office-rent.

"Jane is, perhaps, the plainest girl in town. But such taste! Such an exquisite dresser!"

64

Exquisite," "delicious," "dresser," "dresses," "dressing," "admirable," dressing," "admirable," "perfect," 'faultless," dresser," "dresses," "dressing," "dress," "dress," "dress," exclaimed the chorus, with a full burst of generous enthusiasm.

And she never wore anything more perfect in its way than that berthe à façon. So delicate, so fanciful, so distinguished. I have sometimes thought a few other girls dress as well as Jane Stevenson; but that berthe à façon has changed my opinion-so fresh, such an exquisite mélange!"

"Such a mélange, however, would not have been thought in good taste last year," observed the languid Julia, with an air of deep reflection on her Grecian brow.

"Of course not!" was Miss Laura's

60 But me

rather contemptuous reply. lange is the idea of the season, and Jane's effort was perfect!"

"I wish, though, we could settle about the different rows-it would be such a satisfaction!" repeated Olivia. My dear Olivia! Do you not see that the second row must necessarily have been Honiton? The first, you will admit, was Valenciennes."

"O yes," "Valenciennes," "certainly," "Valenciennes,” "Valenciennes!" exclaimed the chorus.

"Very well! Once admit that, and the whole matter is settled. The first being Valenciennes, the second was Honiton, the third Maltese, in the natural order of things. The lightest above, the heaviest below. It is clear as day."

"But," observed Olivia, who, sweet creature, had a blue vein of obstinacy in her disposition, "you know, Laura, that irregularity in trimming is allowable !"

Allowable, of course-the effect is often very good-irregularity is sometimes a proof of very high fashion. Lawson is often irregular."

"Very well-perhaps it was so in this case."

"If I had never seen this berthe à façon, I might, perhaps, suppose so,

too.

But you forget that I stood full five minutes near Jane; and five minutes are sufficient, I should hope, for a woman of sense to know something of a berthe immediately under her eye. Why, in fact, I have many a time read the whole dress of a lady near me, in half that time, from her braid to her shoe-strings."

"You are certainly very quick in reading a dress, Laura; I admit the fact," was Olivia's cordial confession.

"Nothing is more easy, I am sure, if a woman is blessed with eyes and some sense," was Laura's modest rejoinder.

"But it is not every one that has your great facility in that way-"

"Well, I do hope Jane will wear the berthe to-night, and then we can settle the question," said Carrie.

"No probability of that. The berthe will never be seen again. Jane never wears a ball-dress more than twice."

"That is true," sighed Olivia, “ with her allowance she can afford variety. She has five thousand a year for her dress, you know—”