LordPeter List Literary Contest

Dear Reader:

I hope I have done well enough in my sketch of this scene and its inhabitants, their clothes, their manners, &c. &c, that my humble little work shall meet with the approval of the eyes which find it. Of the characters involved in the story, I can only say that I attempted accurate, if unadorned, delineation of their characters, which though they be humble and unprepossessing, yet might charm the reader with their very simplicity.

Yours faithfully,

Guess

(transcribed, also faithfully, by Lisa Inman, otherwise hopefully soon to be known as "Afflicted With An Essay")

It was with some trepidation that I moved from the hall, whose lengths I was used to traversing, to the lounge. I took care that my seat in this unfamiliar and ornately-dressed room (which I noticed had been turned out satisfactorily despite the late notice) would be unobtrusive; the better to watch the ladies and their gentlemen as they flitted about in their sumptuous and costly finery.

A manservant came and asked me what I would have to drink; I said quietly, "Nothing, thank you." I settled into my chair, half-hidden behind the drape of the window-seat, and examined the room without myself being observed.

A couple was whirling in a practised way across the floor, which was cleared for dancing. I observed them with interest. The man seemed the more interesting of the two, but I will return to him in a moment. The girl was dressed in a petunia-colored frock that was very showy and distracting; very clearly at the height of the fashion, as such fashions go. Her face above the glittering apparel, however, did not match the elegance of her finery and the nobility of her bustle. If mindless torpor and insensitive jadedness can be read in a face, reader, I read those things there, despite the smile that remained on her otherwise beautiful visage.

And the man? He was, as I said, more interesting, but only because there seemed to be more mind behind his smooth pomaded front than there was behind the visage of the dancing girl. His mouth was unattractively long, his eyes a non-descript color, his nose a bit too snub, his cheekbones a bit too prominent; yet there was a melancholy fire that leaped from his eyes. Of all the people in the room, he seemed to understand deeper things which a person's spirit might be said to encompass; but I made no move to engage his glance toward myself--no, how could I? I did not belong here.

The other ladies were similarly costumed, and seemed, by their movements, to be more than their actual number, reminding me, by their movements, of a flock of colorful plumy birds. That their spirits did not match the nobility of their costumes became apparent to me as I examined each of their faces in turn. Where was the independence of spirit, the nobleness of purpose, the equanimity of mind that one should expect from people of their opportunities? But in fact, they seemed as little anxious to secure goodness of heart as they were interested in manoeuvering their gentlemen to indulge them in their capricious whims. In fact, it seemed that they were all playing a game, to great cross-purposes. My spirit welled up in me to denounce this game, for indeed, reader, this spectacle served only to grieve me further. But no: just in time, my organ of Conscience rose to prevent me speaking my mind, and Sensitivity and Will, as well as the Meekness that is born of being an outsider, held me firmly in check.

-- Afflicted With An Essay

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