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[From Godey's Lady's Nook.]
THE COSMETIC.
A SKETCH OF SOUTHERN LIFE
By PAUI.IOI FOIISYTIT
TIIAr a slight event has sometimes made
or marred' the happiness.of a lifetime is a
.fact, doubtless, familiar to all who have read
or observed mueli. Mohammed's life was
saved by the flight of a bird, and Bruce drew
from a spider's perseverance the energy and
resolution to fight his last triumphant battles.
If the destiny of those with whom the desti•
nies of nations are involved is influenced by
what seems to us such mere it is not
difficult to imagine that the fate of little
people often hangs upon a circumstance in
itself most trivial and unimportant.
In 'one of the pleasantest streets of New
Orleans stand ‘ s the residence of Mr. Davis
Bertram., It is only necessary to enter it to
see•that every luxury or comfUrt v that taste
-could select or wealth procure has been em
ployed to fill and ornament. the rooms old
halls, All spacious, airy, and elegant. Into
the softly shaded apartments the fresh cool
air of morning finds its way through cluster
ing Vines and shadowing trees, and leaves
everywhere • traces of its wanderings over the
perfumed orange groves and jessamine
flowers around. All through the house, in
the halls, on the veranda, or in the lumtrious
drawing : rooms, the light tones and Infighter;
and the little tripping feet of children, make
a nevere:easing domestic melody. If any ,
visitor, puzzled by the übiquity of these
household treasures, should take the trouble
to gather them all in one group, be would
• find that five little Bert rams— "her little
steps," Mrs. Bertram called them—were all
dust were necessary to keep up from morning
till night a chattering and pattering, that
ended only - when sleep had laid its soft calm
ness over each little foot and tongue. •
Five' prettier children it would have been
hard to find. And so evidently the mother
thought; for the most delicate muslins, and
softest laces, and purest linens set off to the
best advantage each little one.
If you would like to pay Mrs. Bertram an
unceremonious visit, you need not look for
her in the drawing-rooms,, with their elegant
curtains, their soft, rich carpets, and their
comfortable lounges and chairs; neither
would you be any more likely to find her in
the library, filled though it is with hooks of
every sort, and with a few exquisite pictures
hanging against its walls, seeming to invite
you to an intellectual kind of dream-liti.
But Mrs. • Bertratn is not a reading woman;
and, besides. her five cherubs that have the
range of the house, there is another very
little cherub that only perpetrated its first
smile a week ago.,, It lion all the day in the
nursery, doubling its rose-bud of a fist, and
kicking its equally rosy feet in a way that
seems to Mrs. Bertram, who has seen the
same phenomenon only five times before•in
her life, always new, curious, interesting, and
delightful.
The nursery has, been for the last few
years Mrsr-Bertram's principal abiding place.
But she does not look in the least worn or ha•
rassed; She has a fair and matronly kind of
beauty, and as she bends over her youngest
darling, and tries by all kinds of maternal
blandishments to win from it another dawn
of a smile, you can see on her placid brow,
and`by the tranquil light of her eye and her
s.veet smile, that cares and time have touch
ed her lightly. '
In another street, but a little distance from
the one in which !dr. Bertram lives, stands a
row of low squalid buildings. In one of the
smallest and most conficed rooms in the
poorest of these houses sits a woman busily
-etwingr----The—garment_sheis making is 6i
deafly not for herself. People that live in
such places do not wear linen of a texture so
exquilitely delicate. She sews hurriedly and
rapidly, for she knowEi that when that hag
gard and stern-looking man, who lies stretch
ed on-'the•poor pallet they call a 'bed, rousts
himself from his deep sleep of intoxication,
she will have to lay aside the work by which
she procures food for both, to administer to
the immediate wants . t)f one whose demands
are always insisted. on with unfeeling perti-
nabity. •
As her fingers move steadily, she thinks
of her four children, two of whoM are in
their grit - ves, and the other two removed from
the degrading influence of their father's-ex
ample, and from the heavy pres4ure of pover
ty, by the care of kind relatives, who would
do the same service for the wife, if she
would consent to_ leave her worthless hus
band. She made the _attempt once, but was
recalled to his side by hearing that he was
suffering under a severe attaelc of fever, and
could never be persuaded to leftve'him again.
Truly thereis a love stronger than death.
But for one of those triVial mischances
which exercise. so great an influence over our
lives, Mrs. Bertram Would have been in the
place of that poor toiler with her needle, in- -
stead of living as she did in the midst of all
the blessedness of affluence Nid affection.
, 'My first acquaintance with Henrietta Wil
liams was on the occasion of Virginia Percy's
marriage to Lieutenant Marshall. She was
to have three bridesmaids—her sister Ellen,
Henrietta Williams, a distant relative of the
family, and myself. According •to appoint-
Ment, we assembled at Mr. Percy's three or
four days before the wedding, to keep np the
spirits of i the bride elect ; and prevent her
from sinkihg,urfifer the crisis of her destiny,
that was impending over her in all its awful'
and irrevocable certainty.
It is no slight matter, to prepare for a wed•
din,c, where there are no confectioners or pro
fessed cooks andwelbdrilled waiters to be
found, and Mrs. Percy was quite overwhelm
ed with the manifold duties that devolved
upon her. Besides the general superintend
( ence of the bridal paraphernalia, and of till
the ordinary offices of the household, there
was an enormous table, the whole length of
a very large dining•room, • that 'was to be
heaped up with all manner of delicacies, be
sides a large side-table, On which the sub
stantial part of the supper, the hams, chick-.
ens, ducks, and other things of the kind,
were to be placed. •
Ellen Perey,• Henrietta, and myself took
upon ourselves the management of the lighter
iitid more ornamental portion-of-the arrange
ments: Virginia made a 'show of assisting
us; but, having provOd her incapacity by a
series of blunders, she was, with one accord,
req' -1 - ,,, nother attempt to
,nested not to make another attempt to he
useful, seeing that in every instance disaster
had followed her like a shadow. She hurried
outof the dining-room to avoid the raillery
that was showered upon her, and took refuge
in her , own room, where she remained, for
the greater part of the day, in a sort of mazy,
but happy kind of state, in which her own
thoughts seemed , to be to her such Satis
factory e6mpanions that any interruption
from us of the - outer world was a thing to
be endured with a gentle patience, but not
sought or appreciated..
Henrietta Williams was rather a pretty
girl, but quiet and reserved. She seldom
spoke unless she was addressed, and ap
peared quite absorbed in her-occupations.
Late in the afternoon she slipped away
from us, and I saw her walking down the
broad straight path that led to the gate. As
I gazed after her in sonic surprise at her
choice of a solitary walk, at an age when all
are generally inclined to sociability of the
warmest kind, I noticed that she turned off
into aside path that led into the woods. It
was winter, though the warm, bright days
laughed in our faces as ire called them by
that cold name, and, through the bare.
branches and trunks of the trees, I could
long distinguish the waving folds of the light
gray cashmere as it floated in and out, while
its wearer steadily pursued an onward course
into the deeliest depths of the discrowned
woods. At last it entirely disappeared, and
then I fell into a self reproachful, train 'of
thought.
"flow could I," thought I to myself, "al
low Miss Williams to go by herself so far?
She is pale; doubtless she is not well, and
the physicians have prescribed exercise.
She is timid, evidently, and would not like
to ask any of us to accompany her, as, we
are so busy. Virginia and Ellen are really
too much occupied to think of it. But I was
doing nothing. It was very stupid in one to
stand staring after her out of the window,
instead of running out to overtake her."
After I had brought .myself •into a meek
and humble state of mind, I was aroused
from my self-upbraidings by a summons to
witness the triumphant success of some cu
linary experiment, and confess that in the ex
citement and delight consequent thereupon, I
entirely forgot Henrietta and ,her solitary
walk.
As fur as visitors were-concerned, our days
passed very quietly. It was an understood
matter that no gentleman was to be admitted
to the house to divert our atter tion from onr
important duties; and the ladies of the
neighborhood had too much discretion to call
at such a busy time. - And all day'long we
were really kept quite hard at work. Our
evenings were spent round a large fire in a
room which had been appropriated to Virginia
and her bridesmaids. Here Ellen took it upon
herself, to do the honors. She was almost
seventeen, and she bore the burden of so ,
many years with a spirit and self-reliance
that were truly refreshing. The rest of us,
were a 'year or two older, and were already
beginning to think it necessary to be a little
;ra•.e and discreet.. But for Ellen, we should
have sat still and conversed in a proper and
sentimental manner suited to the occasion;
dartiolc
but she set us upon all kinds of queer experi
ments.
After telling us ghost stories and robber
stories, and tales of witchcraft and murder,
until we hardly dared to look behind us, she
proposed a number of charms by which those
or'us whose destiny was still Undecided might
discover who their future husband was to be.
We spent a long evening trying to muster
courage to go alone into a dark place and
repeat an incantation, which . Ellen dictated
to us, three times; after which, we were as
slued, our future husband would appear in a
luminous vision before us. But each attempt
ended in a little shriek, and a sudden rushing
into the friendly light.
Unsuccessful in this the next night Ellen
introduced the subject of compleXion, always
an interesting one to young girls, and in
duced us all to put on, before retiring, a
mask of dough, assuring us that it was the
best thing in the world to inake the skin fair
and white. Just as we bad fitted the masks
nicely to the face, and were beginning to get
a little uneasy and nervous at the hideous,
death-like appearance our companions made,
Henrietta entered the room. She bad been
mysteriously absent for an hour, and we had
been wondering what had become of her.
At the first glimpie of our corpse-like faces,
she shrieked and turned to run, but fell trem
bling on a couch near her. Nor would she
consent to pass the night in the room until
we unmasked. I was quite relieved myself
to see Virginia's real face again, for I was
conscious of a strong shrinking and repug•
nance to the figure that hadrepresented her
a short time before.
Ellen did not take our weak fears very
patientlyi but, after reproving us rather se
verely, and telling us that it was ridiculous
to be afraid of each other, She . asked "if we
had ever tried buttermilk and tans•?"
"No," said we.
"Well, that is one of the best things in the
world for the skin. It takes off freckles and
sunburn, and everything else. Henrietta,
you .ought to use it, for you know that, in
the spring, you are always troubled with
freckles."
"Not much," said Henrietta.
"But th'ere is no need for any. I will get
some fresh buttermilk to-morrow, and you
must try it."
The next afternoon I saw Henrietta setting
forth on her solitary walk. I hastened to
overtake and join her. She was far in ad :
vance of me, and I soon lost sight of her;
but, following the narrow winding path
through the woods, I came at last on a small
open space. Henrietta was standing there,
turned .away from the direction in which I
stood, talking in a low voice to a young
gentleman. He raised his eyes as I ap
proached, and our glances met. I turned
quickly away, and went back wiser than I
came. From an instinctive feeling of deli
cacy, I did not mention to any one what I
bad discovered, and I saw by Henrietta's
manner that she was unaware of mY untime
ly, attention to her.
This was the last "evening before the int-,
portant one of the wedding, and Ellen, pres
sing upon us the necessity of looking as well
as possible, urged us to...use the buttermilli
she had obtained for our beautifying. This
was an improvement on any of her other
suggestions, and we yielded willingly, not
without a certain faith in her assertion, that
we should find ourselves as fair as lilies in
the morning.
Henrietta was again absent, and did not
return until the candle was flying away in
the socket, and we were almost asleep. •
"Where have you been?" asked Virginia.
"On the porch. It was such a pleasant
night that I could not -bear to stay in the
house.",
"Have you been alone all this time?" said.
" Oh, I don't mind that; I sit alone a great
deal at home:" •
I noticeil the indirectness in the answer,
and understood it; but the others were un-
suspicious
"If you ‘;'111 call Abby, she will bring you
a fresh candle," said Virginia, half asleep.
1 thank. you. The moon gives light
enough for me."
I fancied fron the tones of lienrietta's
voice that she had been Weeping; but she
kept in the shade; so that I could not see
her. Just as she was about to retire, Ellen
roused herself to remind her of the .cos-
metie.
" l put some away for you," said she. "It
is in a bottle on the lower shelf in tlic ward
robe. Shall I get up to Lind it?" -
"Oh, no, I can get it easily. Here it is;
how shall I use it?"_„,••• , -
"Wash your thee thoroughly L—very tho•
roughly with it; that •
Henrietta obeyed, and soma all was silent.
Virginia slept soundly by cuy'side. From
the other berl,4 could distinguish, amid the
regular breathings of Ellen, a deep sigh that
seemed to be forced from the heavy heart of
her companion:- After a while even that
ceased, and I was beginning to lose my own
consciousness, when I was roused by Henri
etta's voice. She was calling Ellen in a low,
suppressed, but sonic what impatient tone.
Ellen's slumber was never an easy one to
shake off, and it was some time before she
showed any tokens of-wakefulmids„At last
she asked "What?" in a drOwsy tone.
"How does this buttermilk feel on your
face?" asked Henrietta.
"Feel? Yes—it feels—yes"—And Ellen
was sound asleep again.
"Oh, Ellen, do wake up for a moment. Is
it sticky?"
"Sticky? Yes—oh, yes, very."
And again Ellen dropped her "head on the
pillow. Several minutes passed; then 1 again
heard Henrietta.
"Ellen—Ellen?"
"Yes," murmered Ellen.
"Something is the . matter With me, some
thing very strange. I can't open my month;
my face is perfectly stiff 7 Do get a light."
Ellen rose slowly, and, calling the nurse
from her mother's room, soon procured a
candle.
"What's de matter, Miss Ellen ?" asked
DEE
"I nm afraid Cousin Henrietta is sick,"
was the reply. 'Come and see if she wants
anything."
Henrietta lay with her eyes balfopenod,
and blinking as the rays of the candle fell
On them. Aunt Abby - looked, at her a mo
ment, and exclaimed—
" Bless us, how your face do shine I And
it's all red and fiery. What have you been
and done ?''
'lt's that buttermilk," said HenrietUt
"Oh, no, it cannot be that," said h.',llen;
"that's impossible."
A nnt Abby took a bottle from the toilet
table. "Is dis what you used?" asked she.
"Yes;" said Henrietta.
Aunt Abby examined it sagaciously. "Dis
is misses ' bottle of varnish," said she. "I
was in a mighty hurry dis orning, and Miss
Ellen called me in to dress her; and so 1
slipt the varnish in the wardrobe, and never
thought no more about it, till dis blessed
minute. You's varnished yourself, -honey,
dat's all."
"Oh, Aunt Abby, will it ever come offs,
"Yes, I s'pect so, but your skin will come
off, top, mos' likely. I'll do what I can for
you."
Mrs. I'ercy's medical knowledge was called
into action in this emergency, and everything
that could be thought of was done for Henri
etta's relief; but the next morning she was
far from presentable. Another bridesmaid
had to be obtained to fill her place.... While
confined to her room . and bed, she lay suffer
ing evidently from something more than mere
bodily pain. She was anxious and nervous,
and her eves followed us about with an earn
est, wistful glance, as though she wished, yet
shrank front asking ,some important ques
tion.
Among the guests of the wedding, 1 ob
served the same gentle Man I had seen talk
ing to Henrietta iu the woods. He was a
small, slight man, whom one, at first glance,
might call insignificant; but a few ninutes'
study of the face and head would remove
that impression. There was upon them the
marks of an extraordinary mind, of a strong
will, and of a perfect, though carefully' re
pressed, conciousness of his own power.
became very much interested in watching
him, and perceiving", how naturally his in
tellectual superiority and force of character
enabled him 'to be the tacitly acknowledged
in every conversation in which he took part.
His mat tier towards the ladies was particu
larly enr"ous. There.seemed to be a kind of
unaccout able_ fascination in it, which gave
to his little tote-alleles with them au air of
love : making, so devoted and absorbed did
he seem With each one. Young as he WaS,
and he could not have been inure than twee•
ty-three or four, he had a blase wordly-wise
look that would have suited a man of forty,
and that did not harmonize very well with a
youthful recklessness and impetuosity that
were now and then apparent.
He smelt an introduction to me, and 1
could not repress a feeling of repugnance
that rose involuntarily as I returned the sa
lutation. If •politeness had permitted, 1
would'haye turned away without speaking,
but in less than five minutes t I was• (ate .
charmed by his ma nner,:so self-posessed,
and yet so deferential and insinuating. His
powers of conversation were remarkable, and
lie hatl'a skill in flattery that, distrustful as
I was of compliments and compliMente,rs,
induced me to liken to the pretty things
he Mai to me, with a feeling of satisfaction
that ono,,pcson at least thoroughly appreci
ated me. ' ti •
We did not allude to our former meeting,
hut when Mr, Powell, for that was ds name,
had brought me into a general cot Imunica
ti‘;e mind, he began to qqestioa,-- le about
Henrietta and her illness. llithrietta, had
begged us not to tell the cause of her nor:•
appearance, so that I could nut satisfy his
curiosity entirely; but., remetnberbrg ° that
Aunt Abby had said, "it would be two weeks
before she would be fit to be seen, for her
face was all blistered over," I mentioned that
circumstance to Mr. Powell. He seemed
somewhat troubled, grieved I thought, at the
prospect of not seeingher for solong; and
I sympathized with him. Soon After I saw
him talking with Natunie Porter, a. soft, gig
gling, and rather pretty girl, who had the
reputation of being an heiress in a small
Way. He hovered around. her the whole eve
ning, and they talked in whispers in the.
corners ofthe 'room and in the ball. It
seemed to me that he was paying her quite
too much attention, considering that his
heart was engaged elsewhere.
At last the. wedding guests departed. I
sought my room with feet so weary with
dancing that they could hardly bear. r
thither. Henrietta was waiting to hear t.,.•
the particulars of the evening's gaiety, and 1
was' ; ,.sleepily relating them, when IsTannie
Porter entered.
"I am going to stay hetzAo night, girby
she said, in a hurried way. "my head aches
and I sent Bob home with the carriage, to
saNi that I could not come till to-inorrow."
We said all that was proper, and Nannie
Was silent - for few minutes;-then she asked
me for writing materials. I told her tluit
they were all in the library, which, owing to
'the house being rather crowded with guests,
was at present occupied as a sleeping-room.
She could not obtain them till .morning.—
She moved. about the room uneasily. She
seemed burthened with a secret too heavy
for her powers of retention. At last it conic
out— - - •
"Girls will you never tell something I am
going to tell you?"
Of course we promised.
" Well, I am going to be married to-mor-
row morning;
"To whon?" asked Henrietta.
"To some one that has loved me- ever so
long more than a year. We were engaged
six months ago, but mamma made me break
it off, and forbade him to come to See me.—
He Went to:Neworleans after that, and mam
ma thinks that he is there still, or she would
never have let me Come here without her.
But I saw him here to-night, and he told me
he had been ill with a brain fever ih conse
quence of my treating him so, and that he
was near dying. He says be is constantly
threatened with it again, and that if I don't
marry him directly, he knows he cannot live
a year. Ile looks pale and thin, poor fellow,
and I cannot help pitying him. 1 have
promised him that I will go with him early
in the Morning to a mini: ter, who lives about
seven miles from here. We can be married
there.' and go quietly to see mamma; but
I thought I would like to send a liitle note
first."
" Whnt is the gentleman's name ?"
Ifenrietta
"Ifarry Powell."
" Harry Powell r exclaimed 4Tenric4ta.—
"He is engaged to me. Ile gave me this
turquoiBe ring, an emblem of his truth, he
said."
"lle gave me this emerald." said Nannie,
" that I might know that hope had something
yet in store for us. He wrote me some pret
ty verses.too, about it i" and she repeated
the poetry.
"He sent .those very lines to me," sail
Henrietta. "I have theth at home now."
Nannie began to eV)
" I am sure he loves me better than any
one .else . in the world ; he has told me so a
- hundred times. Ire—did-say-once- that-if I
did not marry him, and he survived it, ho
might be induced to marry some one else
Crum interest or necessity; , but that his af
fections would be forever blighted.
" But" said Henrietta, "he has been ad.
dressing inc for three years, long before he
saw you. I have refused him sevJral
for my friends did not like, him at all, and
each time he told me the same thing be told
you, and I confess I believed him. I will tell
you something else. I promised to slip away
from the house this evening, and' go with
him to the same minister's to which he was
to take you, I. presume, and for the samo
purpose. But for that varnish, I should have
[men^ Mrs. PpWell by this time, and you
would have made a great escape. I - think
we have 'rather cause far delight than sor:
ES
But N'ttunie wean') weepingovhile
rietta flung her ring into the fire.
" WllO is this Mr. PowellY,'.aslied
- I - -Continued on seventh page.
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