The morning after Jane's arrival at Wyllys-Roof, the young people were engaged in one of the gay conversations we have alluded to, when Mr. Wyllys called off Hazlehurst's attention.
"Harry, what was that clumsy contrivance about the French horses, you were describing to Van Horne, last night? I wanted to ask you, at the time, but you began to talk with Miss Patsey. You said something about a wooden collar, I think."
Harry changed his seat, for one nearer Mr. Wyllys, and began a long explanation of the harness used by the French teamsters.
"I have several engravings in my trunks, that will show you my meaning, sir, better than words can do."
"I should like to see them. But, are these wooden wings to the collars, as you describe them, used throughout France, or only in Normandy, and the neighbourhood of Paris?"
"We saw them wherever we went. All the carters and farmers seem to use them. They have, besides, a great deal of clumsy, useless ornament, and they contrive to want twice as much tackle as we do."
The gentlemen continued to discuss the subject of horses and harness, Harry relating, for Mr. Wyllys's amusement, many observations he had made, on these matters, in the different countries where he had been.
Jane had brought down, from her room, an arm-full of pretty things, evidently Parisian. She had just given Elinor a very pretty bag, which Miss Agnes was called upon to admire.
"My dear Aunt," cried Elinor, "do look at this; Jane, I think we must call it a sac--'bag' sounds too heavy. Look at the material--the finest cachemere. And then the colour, so rich and so delicate at the same time."
"Yes; it is a very pretty shade of ponceau," said Jane.
{"ponceau" = poppy red (French)}
"And then the shape! so Parisian! And the ornaments--"
"It is very pretty," said Miss Wyllys, after due examination.
"That is the way with everything that comes from Paris," said Elinor; "it is always so complete; not one part good and others clumsy--or good in quality, but ugly in form and colour. The French seem to have an instinct about these things; they throw a grace about everything."
"Yes; they have a perfect taste," said Jane.
"While I was up-stairs, with Louisa, yesterday," said Elinor, "we talked over Paris all the morning, Aunt Agnes. I was amused with a great deal she told me. Louisa says, there is a fitness in all that a French-woman does and says, and even in everything she wears--that her dress is always consistent--always appropriate to the occasion."
"That is true," replied Jane; "their dress is always of a piece."
"And yet, Louisa insists upon it, that they do not bestow more time and thought upon the subject, than the women of other countries--and, certainly, not so much money."
"Everything is so easy to be had, and so much cheaper, in Paris," said Jane.
"But, she remarked, that they are never ashamed to wear a pretty thing merely because it is cheap; nor to make themselves comfortable, by wearing thick shoes in the mud, and a coarse, warm shawl in a fog."
"We have not much mud or fog to trouble us, in this country;" said Miss Agnes.
"No, aunt; but we have hard showers in summer, and cold weather in winter; in spite of which, you know, our ladies must always be dressed like fairies."
"I have often heard Madame de Bessieres praise the good sense of her countrywomen, on those subjects," observed Miss Wyllys.
"Louisa maintains that the French-women have a great deal of common sense; she says, that is the foundation of their good taste; and, I suppose, after all, good taste is only good sense refined."
"I suppose it is, my dear. Louisa seems to have come back even more of a French-woman than you, Jane," observed Miss Agnes.
"Oh! I like the French very well, Aunt Agnes."
"But Louisa is quite eloquent on the subject."
"She was so very fortunate, Aunt, in having so kind a friend in Paris, as Madame de Bessieres. Louisa describes the de Bessieres as living in a delightful set of people--she mentioned half a dozen persons whom she met habitually there, as not only amiable, and highly accomplished, and well-bred, but high-principled, too.
She says she used often to wish you could know them, Aunt Agnes."
"I can readily believe anything good of the intimate friends of Madame de Bessieres, for I never knew a woman whose character was more worthy of respect. It was a great loss to us, when she returned to France. She was very fond of you, Elinor."
"How kind in a person of Madame de Bessieres' age, to remember me! I long to see the letter she wrote me; Robert says I shall have it, certainly, to-morrow, when all their baggage will be at Longbridge."
"Madame de Bessieres often spoke of you, Elinor," said Jane. "She bid me ask if you remembered all the pet names she used to call you, but I forgot to mention it when I wrote."
"Just as you forget many other things, naughty girl; I must say you are anything but a model correspondent, Jenny, dear."
"Well, I can't help it--I do dislike so to write!"
"You need not tell me that," said Elinor, laughing. "But I do remember all Madame de Bessieres' kind names very well. It was sometimes, mon lapin, mon lapin dore, mon chou, ma mere--they all sounded pleasantly to me, she spoke them so kindly. But sometimes to vex me, the other children--Master Harry among others--used to translate them; and, though rabbit, and golden rabbit, sounded very well in English, I did not care to be called cabbage."
{"mon lapin" = my rabbit; "mon chou" = my cabbage, a term of endearment; "dore" = golden; "ma mere" = my mother (French)}
"Did you like the young people you met in Paris, Jane?" asked Miss Wyllys.
"Oh, yes; the young men don't trouble you to entertain them, and the girls are very good-natured and pleasant."
"Louisa seems to think the French girls are charming--so graceful, and pleasing, and modest; really accomplished, and well educated, too, she says--all that young women ought to be."
"Yes, she says that she hopes her little girls will be as well educated as Madame de Bessieres' grand-daughters," said Jane.
