Litchfield enquirer., 1878-07-11
From Blackwood's Magazine. FASHION AND FANCY.
ssFrightful. When could it have been

aware or Wnat our HllltdTy COliCSEAC1'' term ''the situation" It was certainly an awkward one. had slipped open the draw l ing room door after breakfast, thinking that in that sunny and luxurious abode, usually de-
 serted during morning hours, quiet corner for me and my newspaper would not be amlss land here I was; or was abont to be, launch ' ed on that most boundless of oceans, fem-
 nine discourse upon dress! For the above re- mark was uttered in soft treble pipe, and at
 least half a dozen other pipelets equally soft,
 responded.
 Being a man, and not youth, my first im- pulse was to beat an instantaneous retreat, closing the half-opened door before it had att I tracted observation but the trampling of
 ough-booted feet, the odour of fusees, and the unmistakable base notes wanting to the treble variations within, proclaimed that was taken I in the rear The sportSmen, the mighty men of valor, and the beardless boys who hung up on their moustachioed lips, inhaliHg wisdom as they puffed tobacco, were drifting through
 the hall, apparently without any settled desti- 1 nation.
 knew their ways had been in the house l with them for three days at least, and had
 learnt to long as:.ardently as.the most fervid lover of the sport. for the blissful Twelfth" | that was to dawn on the morrow. need
 hardly to say, after this that we were in Scot land, and that the month was August. The year was -, good while ago.
 Still the Twelfth" then, was as the Twelfth" now, the day of days, and for it l, 1 in common with all,panted. Then we should be rid of as idle, useless, and good-natured a set of incubi as ever existed. Then we should | have an end to that seemingly eternal kennel | talk, and be able to stroll once more round the
 terrace without passing .yawning figure ex- tended on every bench. There remained but o:x xI ho ,cip for all would take place but, meantime, l had to l beware of chance meetings, for even stupid l like myself might be peg for some to hang their idle talk upon. ... a A plague upon theml What was to become l of me? Here was I, an elderly man, who had | right to peace and quiet, right to be left alone, to say nothing of right to exemption l from rheumatism in dry and warm summer
 month,-here was, say, kept standing in a l draught-all the drawing room windows were open, as was the hall door-whilst 1 vacillated betwiXt choice of evils.
 How long would these ruffians hang on in | the hall? How many collected at the door, and how soon would the rest follow? It was
 little use attempting to guess; they were all l over the place, and without any apparent in- tention of ''moving on." One took up a | matchlock, another exibited feats with cane, | and two more began languid game of bill | lizards.
 I chose the ladies and fashion, and boldly entered the drawing-room. The door was sunk in wall many feet thick, so that all the time had been standing in the entry, had | been invisible to both forces within and with l out.
 No sooner was fairly committed to the ven ture than found, as many another desperate | man has done before me, a way of safety open l hyyn had rQND m hat | over this doorway-a side one-hung velu- minous embroidered curtain. behind which a
 ew-comer was screened from observation un- l til he had drawn it on one side It did not l hang close to the door the door could be shut | ere the curtain was raised. By these means a l tiny recess was formed, so that although the girls were clearly within few feet of it, and | their chatter was as audible as though the curtain were not there, my presence remained | a secret. as.a
 They had not heard any of my manguvres, being expressed with the subject in hand; and | it was plain that if 1 chose, I might ere long l slip out, as had slipped in, unobserved. | Perhaps you cannot understand the exquisite ] relief of the discovery? daresay not. You l have never walked three streets around to | avoid shaking hands with friend? have.
 I cannot tell you why, for don't know my self, but it is no less true. The sight of my | friends, especially my women friends, when am not in the vein for it, is far more disagree able to me than that of my enemies. To them
 I need not pull off my glove, and be hearty, and rack my brains to remember whom l | ought to ask after. They come stolidly up, and as stelidly go by, and there is an end to | the matter. meet Bristle, who sneered at my paper on the Code of Health and Longevi- | ty, constantly, and don't mind it at all; but when 1t comes to beginning your smile twenty yards off, and having to stop it suddenly with ] the recollection that it is mistake, it should have been sympathetic look, and the halt upon the pavement, and the getting under way again with the inevitable tendency to
 laugh at nothing, it is really a nuisance. l
 don't above half like meeting man whom see daily, though we only know each other by sight but when he is one whom am on ex-
 cellent terms with, it is of course far worse. 1 Telling this is merely in explanation of what
 may otherwise appear to be the unreasonable satisfaction which caused me to rub my hands
 in secret glee at having found so snug a re-
 treat. A ..
 Although myself unseen, however, it by no
 means followed that others were unseen by
 me- On the contrary, through chink in the
 curtain, not above half an inch wide, had an excellent view of the while party, who were
 now with much animation, hustle and laugh 1
 What it was about I did not care to inquire
 minutely, even of my own ears, my eyes be- 1 ing on duty, and understanding what they
 were about tolerably correctly too.
 A very pretty picture it was. Youth and
 beauty was the order of the day in the old Scotch country house. And charming group
 of fair faces and graceful forms bent and sway. ed around huge mirror, which, Parisian fashion, came close down to the ground, and lost itself in bank of rich and varied summer flowers. Taller than all the rest, by half g
 head, was our lovely young hostess. Carry Brand.
 I am as old as Carry's father, and she has been my great pot and favourite for three-and. twenty years, being the term of her short life SO may be pardoned if, in these pages
 seem, to indifferent ears, to speak of her toe partially.
 She is a beauty, none can deny that. beauty with long blue-black hair, blooming
 carmine cheeks, and grey eyes.
 She is not clever. She is good, kind, anC gentle-must confess it? too gentle, if such g
 thing can be-. Perhaps (although would rather not have allowed it), perhaps the worG ought to have been pllable She must agre, l with, the last speaker,-she neither can nol l will decide for herself.
 We'll what is the use of being vexed Thost
 beautiful eyes, that flash and glitter like stars
 although they do soften and shine at time.
 sweetly enough. will never have the living
 soul in them that have seen in some eyes
 eyes which strike wild chord ofremembranc through even this foolish old heart. Thest
 softly folding lips will never utter aught be
 yond the pleasantries, the commonplaces o
 life So be it.. amresigned; I take my dea
 girl as she is,. and love her dearly.
 It occurred to me in sort of misty wa,
 that there was something peculiar about Ga
 upon this particular morning; yet migh
 have remained in my corner from Whitsuntid till Martinmas without discovering what tha
 something was, had not my senses been pro
 voked to the discovery of all the tongues o
 the fair bevy clamoring at once to an olde lady, who just then entered by the other doc ''Oh, Maria, do come and look at Garry
 gownl"
 Gown? weil, of course looked at tn
 gown too. But. although looked, expect no
 dear reader, that it will be within my powe
 to describe. No, that cannot do will bu [ hint at what saw and vnu. with ynilr arden