A Little Journey in the WorldWarner, Charles Dudley
General
A Little Journey in the World
Warner, Charles Dudley
American fiction -- 19th century
Margaret and Miss Arbuser were ushered in through a double row of
servants in livery--shortclothes and stockings--in decorous vacuity--an
array necessary to bring into relief the naturalness and simplicity of
the entertainers. Vulgarity, one can see, consists in making one's self
a part of the display of wealth: the thing to be attained is personal
simplicity on a background of the richest ostentation. It is difficult
to attain this, and theory says that it takes three generations for a
man to separate himself thus from his display. It was the tattle of the
town that the first owner of the pictures in the gallery of the Stott
mansion used to tell the prices to his visitors; the third owner is
quite beyond remembering them. He might mention, laughingly, that the
ornamented shovel in the great fireplace in the library was decorated by
Vavani--it was his wife's fancy. But he did not say that the ceiling
in the music-room was painted by Pontifex Lodge, or that six Italian
artists had worked four years making the Corean room, every inch of
it exquisite as an intaglio--indeed, the reporters had made the town
familiar with the costly facts.
The present occupants understood quite well the value of a background:
the house swarmed with servants--retainers, one might say. Margaret, who
was fresh from her history class, recalled the days of Elizabeth, when
a man's importance was gauged by the retinue of servitors and men and
women in waiting. And this is, after all, a better test of wealth than
a mere accumulation of things and cost of decoration; for though men and
women do not cost so much originally as good pictures--that is, good men
and women--everybody knows that it needs more revenue to maintain
them. Though the dinner party was not large, there was to be a dance
afterwards, and for every guest was provided a special attendant.
The dinner was served in the state dining-room, to which Mr. Henderson
had the honor of conducting Margaret. Here prevailed also the same
studied simplicity. The seats were for sixteen. The table went to the
extremity of elegant plainness, no crowding, no confusion of colors
under the soft lights; if there was ostentation anywhere, it was in the
dazzling fineness of the expanse of table-linen, not in the few rare
flowers, or the crystal, or the plate, which was of solid gold, simply
modest. The eye is pleased by this chastity--pure whiteness, the glow of
yellow, the slight touch of sensuous warmth in the rose. The dinner
was in keeping, short, noiselessly served under the eye of the maitre
d'hotel, few courses, few wines; no anxiety on the part of the host and
hostess--perhaps just a little consciousness that everything was simple
and elegant, a little consciousness of the background; but another
generation will remove that.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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