Mary Seaham: A Novel. Volume 1 of 3Grey, Mrs. (Elizabeth Caroline)
General
Mary Seaham: A Novel. Volume 1 of 3
Grey, Mrs. (Elizabeth Caroline)
Great Britain -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction; Mate selection -- Fiction; Young women -- Fiction
A very great beauty of the two or three last London seasons, who
happened to be staying in the neighbourhood was amongst the dinner
guests assembled one evening at Silverton. She of course, like all
wandering stars--who under similar casual and unusual circumstances,
shine forth in all their glory, "to be a moment's ornament"--created no
slight degree of sensation amongst the assembled company, especially the
gentlemen; and Miss L---- might certainly have stood the test amongst a
score of beauties as to all outward perfection which the severest
critics could require. The perfection of well moulded features,
brilliant colouring, symmetry of form, all had been bestowed upon her by
bountiful mother nature; and Miss L---- walked and moved this night the
conscious favourite of that very partial and unequal distributer of her
gifts--in short, a very queen and goddess of beauty.
Mary was perhaps the most enthusiastic amongst her dazzled admirers; for
she, unlike most of the other guests on this occasion, had not been
accustomed to the frequent sight of beauties of every kind and degree,
equally in their turn "the Cinthia of the minute," "the cynosure of
neighbouring eyes." Nor was a shade of envious feeling excited in her
breast by all the sensation and attention of which the dazzling beauty
was made the object. There was nothing in this which could have stirred
the sentiment, even had it been one to which her bosom was more prone.
But she had better reason than she had any idea existed, for this
unconcern; had she but known how there was more real and abiding
influence exercised by the, comparatively speaking, pale, and quiet girl
who, without any pretentions to ostentatious retirement, so calmly and
gently played her part in society--the more real and heartfelt
influence inspired by the nameless charm which she exercised over all
those who approached her; no need, indeed, of envy on her part!
"It was not mirth, for mirth she was too still;
It was not wit, wit leaves the heart more chill;
But that continuous sweetness, which with ease,
Pleases all round it, from the wish to please."
No, there was nothing in all this; but still, at times this night, her
dark eyelashes might be seen to droop somewhat sadly and seriously on
her cheek, and once when she raised them and turned a nervous admiring
gaze upon Miss L----, a gentle sigh was breathed unconsciously from her
lips.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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