Wanderings of a beauty : $b A tale of the real and the idealJames, Edwin, Mrs.
General
Wanderings of a beauty : $b A tale of the real and the ideal
James, Edwin, Mrs.
English fiction -- 19th century
ALL Florence was talking of the _Bal Costumé_ to be given at the _Casino
de’ Nobili_ to H. R. H. the Count of Syracuse, a Neapolitan Prince,
brother to the Grand Duchess, and at present on a visit to his Imperial
sister at the Palazzo Pitti. The ladies were endeavoring each to outvie
the other in the novelty and richness of their costumes. The Grand Ducal
family were to represent their ancient predecessors on the throne of
Florence, the rich and princely family of Medici. The notorious and once
lovely Lady C—— F——, it was known would appear as Pomona, her dress to
be looped up with bunches of fruit interspersed with diamonds, to
represent the dew. A beautiful Florentine duchess, it was whispered,
would personify the “Queen of Hearts;” but so well did her modiste keep
the secret that none could guess either the fashion or color of her
robe, which proves that women _can_ be trusted, at least in so important
an affair as that of the toilette. Counting on her fresh beauty, and
conscious that she could not hope to out-blaze her fair rivals in
jewelry, Evelyn wisely preferred to be unique in the simplicity of her
costume. She therefore chose the becoming dress of a peasant girl of
Frascati, in the environs of Rome. Her corset of cherry-colored velvet,
laced over a chemisette of plaited muslin, displayed to advantage the
rounded waist and perfectly modelled shoulders. The full petticoat of
blue silk trimmed with rows of ribbon to match the corsage, just cleared
the well-turned ankle, and fully discovered the little Spanish foot with
its arched instep. The hair, wrapped around the head, was fastened in a
rich knot by two pins of diamond, and one large brilliant clasped the
narrow band of red velvet which encircled her throat. The peasant’s
apron, and bows of ribbon of blue and silver completed a costume in
which the wearer looked scarcely more than eighteen. I accompanied my
friend _en Marquise_, as this required but little exercise of the fancy,
in which (as regards dress) I am lamentably deficient. Colonel Melville
(whose leave expired very shortly), was to wear the uniform of his
corps, and to meet us at the ball.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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