The Ladies' Vase; Or, Polite Manual for Young LadiesAmerican lady
Religion
The Ladies' Vase; Or, Polite Manual for Young Ladies
American lady
Etiquette for women; Young women -- Conduct of life
And so the morning passed. It was nearly two o'clock, and the company
dispersed to their apartments. I pretend not to know what they did
there; but each one returned between three and four in an altered dress.
And then half an hour elapsed, in which, as I understood from their
impatience, they were waiting for dinner; each in turn complaining of
the waste of time occasioned by its delay, and the little use it would
be to go about any thing when it was so near. And as soon as dinner was
over, they began to wait for tea with exactly the same complainings. And
the tea came, and, cheered by the vivifying draught, one did repair to
the instrument, and began a tune; one did take up a pencil, and prepare
to draw; and one almost opened a book. But, alas! the shades of night
were growing fast:--ten minutes had scarcely elapsed, before each one
resigned her occupation, with a murmur at the darkness of the weather;
and, though some persons suggested that there were such things as lamps
and candles, it was agreed to be a pity to have lights so early in the
midst of summer, and so another half hour escaped.
The lights, when they came, would have failed to relumine an expectation
in my bosom, had not their beams disclosed the forms of various books,
which one and another had brought in for the evening's amusement. Again
I watched and again I listened. "I wish I had something to do, mamma,"
said the little girl. "Why do you not take a book, and read?" rejoined
her mother. "My books are all up stairs," she replied; "and it is so
near bedtime, it is not worth while to bring them down." "This is the
best novel I ever read," said a lady, somewhat older, turning the leaves
over so very fast, that those who are not used to this manner of
reading, might suppose she found nothing in it worthy of attention. "I
dare say it is," said another, whose eyes had been fixed for half an
hour on the same page of Wordsworth's Poems; "but I have no time to read
novels." "I wish I had time to read any thing," said a third, whom I had
observed already to have been perusing attentively the title-page of
every book on the table, publisher's name, date, and all; while a fourth
was too intensely engaged in studying the blue cover of a magazine, to
make any remark whatever.
And now I was much amused to perceive with what frequency eyes were
turned upon the dial-plate, through all the day so little regarded.
Watches were drawn out, compared, and pronounced too slow. With some
difficulty, one was found that had outrun its fellows, and, determined
to be right, gave permission to the company to disperse, little more
than twelve hours from the time of their assembling, to recover, as I
supposed, during the other twelve, dressing and undressing included, the
effect of their mental and bodily exertions.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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