also all alike in costume. But what a clearly impressed individuality one reads in their countenances! Here again it was uniformity devoid of character; the simplicity was monotonous and tiresome. I had not discovered Mrs. G.
I said so to Lerner H. as he sate beside me at breakfast.
“Turn round,” said he, “she sits at the table behind you!” (N.B. We ate at long, narrow tables.)
I turned round and met a gentle, oval, somewhat pale countenance, and a pair of deep, beautiful eyes, a clear forehead, over which the dark-brown hair lay smooth on the temples in bands. That was Mrs. G. She was dressed like all the rest of the ladies, but in black silk; her hair was put up in the same style as the others, but still there was a great difference. She seemed to me a little stiff, but not dry; she was mild and noble.
I made a closer acquaintance with her on Christmas Eve, and on the afternoon of Christmas day, which I spent in company in the great saloon, with a portion of the population of St. Charles's Hotel, and she cordially pleased me. She has those refined, regular features, which belong to American female beauty, and beside this, there is that quiet demeanour, that modest dignified grace which one does not so often meet with among the beauties of the New World. Mr. G., who is a good deal older than his handsome wife, has an animated strongly marked countenance; he is a warm Swedenborgian, and I foresee that we shall have some little contentions on this subject; but all in good part, for he is evidently a good Swedenborgian.
There was dancing in the great saloon. A young, handsome, and evidently consumptive girl waltzed with as much zeal as if she would make an end of herself; and her partner and lover helped her most loyally. I could not feel gay. I thought of Christmas in Sweden and at
