Rensselaer Standard, Volume 1, Number 10, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 23 August 1879 — The American “Pretty Girl.” [ARTICLE]

The American “Pretty Girl.”

The following portrait of one of our country-women in Europe which occurs in Mr. Henry James’ new Scribner novelette, “Confidence,” will be recognised by many on both sides of the water ms drawn from the life: She was simply the American pretty girl, whom he had seen a thousand times. It was a numerous sisterhood, pervaded by a strong family likness. This young lady had charming eyes (of the color of Gordon’sera vats) which looked everywhere at once and yet found tune to linger in some places, where LonguevUie’s own eyes frequently met them. Bhe had soft brown hair, with a silky-golden thread in it, beautifully arranged and crowned by a 1 smart little hat that savored of Paris.

’She had also m slender little figure, neatly rounded, and delicate, narrow hands, prettily gloved. She moved abbot a great deal in her plaee, twisted her little flexible body and tossed her bead, fingered her hair and examined the ornaments of her drees. She had a great deal of conversation, and she expressed herself with extreme frankness and decision. He asked her. to begin with, if she had been long at Baden, bat the impetus of this question was all she required. Turning her charming, conscious, coquettish little face upon him. she instantly began to chatter. “I have been here about four weeks. I don’t know whether you call that long. It doesn’t seem long to me, I have had such a lovely time. I have met ever t-o many people here I know—every day some one turns up. Now you have turned up to-day.” “Ah, but you don’t know me,” said Longueville, laughing. “Well, I have heard a great deal about you I” cried the young girl, with a pretty little stare of contradiction; “I think you know a great friend ofmtne, Mins Eila Maclane, of Baltimore. She’s traveling in Europe now.” Longueville’s memory did not Instantly respond to this signal, but he expressed tiiat rapturous assent which the occasion demanded, and even risked the observation that the young lady from Baltimore was very pretty. "She’s far too lovely,” his com panion went on. “I have often heard her speak of you. I think you know her sister rather better than you know her. She has not been out very long. She is lust as interesting as sue can be. Her hair comes down to her feet. She’s traveled in Norway. She has been everywhere you can think of, and she’s going to finish off with Finland. You can’t go any further than that, can you? That’s one comfort; she’ll have to turn round and come back. I want her dreadfully to come hack to Baden-Baden.” “I wish she would,” said Longueville. “Is she traveling alone?” “Oh, no. They’ve got some Englishman. They say he’s devoted to Ella. Every one seems to have an Englishman, now. We’ve got one here, Captain Lovelock, Captain Augustus Lovelock. Well, they’re awfully handsome.. Ella Machine is dying to come home to Baden-Badeu. I wish you’d write to her. Her father and mother have got Borne idea in their heads; they think it’s improper— what do you call it? —immoral. I wish you’d write to her and tell her it isn’t. I wonder if they think that Mrs. Vivian says she would take her in a moment; she doesn’t seem to care how many she has. 1 declare, she’s only too kind. You know I’m*in Mrs. Vivian’s care. My mother’s gone to Franzensbad. She would let me go with Mrs. Vivian anywhere, on account of the influence —she thinks so much Of Vivian’s influence. I have always heard a great deal about it, haven’t you? I must say it’s lovely; it’s had a wonderful effect upon me. I don’t want to praise myself, Dut it has. You ask Mrs. Vivian if I haven’t been good. I have been just as good as I can be. I’ve been so peaceful, I’ve lust sat here this way. Do you call this immoral? You are not obliged to gamble if you don’t want to. Ella Maclane’s father seems to think you get drawn iu. I know what you’re going to say —you’re going to say I’ve been drawn out. Well, I have, to-night. We just sit here so quietly—there’s nothing to do but to talk. We tnake a little party by ourselves—are you going to belong to our party? Two of us are missing—Miss Vivian and Captain Lovelock. Captain Lovelock has gone with her into the rooms to explain the gambling— Miss Vivian always wants everything explained. lam sure I understood it the first time I looked at the tables. Haveyou ever seen Miss Vivian? She’s very much admired, she’s so very unusual. Black hair’s so uncommon—l see you’ve got it too —but I mean for young ladies. I am sure oue sees everything here. There’s a woman that comes to the tables—a Portuguese countess —who has hair that is positively hlue. I can’t say I admire it when it comes to that shade. Blue’s my favorite color, but I prefer it in the eyes,” continued Longueville’s companion, resting upon him her own two brilliant little specimens pf the tint. He listened with that expression of clear amusement which is not always an indication* of high esteem, but which even pretty chatterers, who are not the reverse or estimable, often prefer to masculine inattention; and while he listened Bernard, according to his wont, made his reflections. He said to himself that they were two kinds of pretty girls—the acutely conscious and the finally unconscious. Mrs. Vivian’s protegee was a member of the former category; she belonged to the genus coquette. We all have our conception of the indispensable, and the indispensable, to this young lady, was a spectator; almost any male biped would serve the purpose. To her spectators she addressed, for the moment, the whole volume of her being— addressed It in her glances, her attitudes, her exclamations, in a hundred little experiments of tone and gesture and position. And these rustling artifices were so innocent and obvious that the direction o! her desire to be well with her observer became in itsself a grace; it led Bernard afterward to say to himself that the natural vocation and metier of little girls for whom existence was but a shimmering surface, was to prattle and ruffle their plumage; their view of life and its duties was as simple and superflci&l as that of an Oriental bayadere.