'Tilt Young Lady's Book. 313 



iecl, because the art which produced it is concealed. Here, for 

 instance, in this recess, is a beautiful cabinet picture, — a charm- 

 ing landscape, partly veiled, but not hidden, by a common, but, 

 in my opinion, remarkably elegant creeping-plant, which extends 

 far enough round the corner to twine about the carved ebony 

 frame, and festoon the polished surface of an old-fashioned glass, 

 which I prize because it was my grandmamma's : here again, you 

 may perceive it wandering downward, and encircling a fossil ; on 

 the other side of the window it has attached its tendrils to a tall 

 and stately exotic, and droops from its topmost flower to garland 

 a Greek vase. Now, although this appears to be all the result 

 of pure accident, Penelope, who is snjiling at my comparison, 

 will tell you 'twas I that did it. And do not imagine, 1 pray, that 

 everything here is in such a chaotic jumble as to be inconvenient ; 

 there is, in fact, order in its seeming confusion ; I have a clue to 

 the labyrinth, and can find a book or a butterfly in my boudoir 

 quite as soon as Miss Penelope can in hers. Candidly speaking, 

 which do you prefer.'" 



' To me,' replied the Editor, to whom this question was ad- 

 dressed, ' they appear to be exquisite specimens of the different 

 styles to which they belong. Like every other boudoir that I 

 have seen (although all bear a faint sort of family resemblance to 

 each other,) each is apparently embelhshed according to the judg- 

 ment of its fair owner, of whose taste and habits it might be taken 

 as a symbol.' 



' That is precisely as I think,' remarked Penelope. 



' Then, my dear,' rephed Lady Mary, ' notwithstanding your 

 reputed wisdom, I must respectfully sulDmit, — as I am told the 

 lawyers say, when they contradict the court, — that you are par- 

 tially in error. Of a lady's taste, her boudoir may sometimes, 

 but not always, be a visible criterion. She may possess the taste 

 of one of those select few, on whom Apollo has shaken a dew- 

 drop from his laurel, and yet have as little means of gratifying it 

 as poor Cinderella, before she had a little fairy glass-bower for a 

 shoemaker: she may also be gifted with pure taste in an equal de- 

 gree, and have a kind Croesus for a relative to allow her an unlim- 

 ited account at Coutts's and yet be possessed with a sister sprite 

 to that which nestled in the heart of an Elwes or a Dancer. 

 That a boudoir is not always a proof of the habits of its owner, 

 I positively confess mine to be an instance: — those specimens 

 of minerals are very rare and valuable, — at least, so says Pene- 

 lope, — but they never struck me as being beautiful, and she 

 kno\vs I am little more acquainted with Mineralogy, than with 

 the grammar of the Moslems. But to waive the question as to 

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