MADAME MULCHINOCK, 535 BROADWAY. MADAME BARRONNE, 687 BROADWAY. MADAME BARONNE, 687 BROADWAY. No. 4.-Also from Madame Mulchinock's, is a dainty and tasteful bonnet, suitable for carriage and opera wear. It is of the Marie Stuart shape, and is made on a soft frame. The foundation is of softest silken tulle, strapped across with bands of velvet forming diamonds; in the centre of each depends a crystal dewdrop. The bonnet is encircled with a wreath of pearl and gilt flowers. The inside is arranged to correspond, and tulle strings complete a bonnet exquisite and stylish in its minutest detail. No. 5.-One of the most tasteful creations of Madame Barronne, of 687 Broadway, is a white uncut velvet bonnet, with a plaited crown and plain front. A superb wreath of acorns, with their leaves, half encircle the crown, while on the opposite side floats a graceful scarf veil of white lace fastened with a rich gilt ornament. The interior is a tasteful blending of white tulle and acorns with their leaves. Rich white strings, and a bow of the same at the back. No. 6 is a coquettish Derby hat, from Madame Barronne's, of blue Lyoos velvet. A scarf of illusion encircles the crown, and is tied in a graceful bow at the back. A superb crimson ostrich pluma curls over the front. The brim is lined with white satin. No. 7. From the spacious and elegant showrooms of Madame Westott, No. 774 Broadway, is of white royal velvet, of the latest Parisian style. Deintily perched on the top of the bonnet is a humming-bird of the richest plumage, sustaining a drooping willow feather. The crown is enriched with a band of gold. Bow and streamers of white ribbon festooned with gold. The interior is a harmonious combination of lace and marigolds, with a golden chaplet. No. 8 is one of Madame Westcott's latest importations from Paris, and is of the gipsy shape. It is of black velvet, and is lined with royal purple velvet. The front of the bonnet is higb. Three bands of black velvet and gold encircle it, while rich black plumes curl gracefully over the sid and crown. Long velvet streamers confine the bonnet under the chin, and golden flowers blended with lace ornament the inside. No. 9.-The Coquette, from Madame Westcott's, is one of the latest and most elegant styles of round hats. It is of the richest black velvet, lined with heavy white silk. A tasteful bow of black velvet ornaments the front, confining a superb ostrich plume which gracefully encircles the hat, which is ornamented with very handsome golden cord and tassels. MADAME WESTCOTT, 774 BROADWAY. VOL. XVII. THE GOLDEN CITY. And the city was pure gold, like unto clear glass.-REVELATIONS, c. 21. THERE is a golden city Beyond the bridgeless river, And all the blest who find its rest Shall rest in joy for ever. Its walls are all salvation, Its gates are high evangel'. Come to the golden eity And share the bliss of angels. Within the golden city Our white-robed friends are walking, Al happy hearts are meeting there, All of the old ways talking, And God hath hushed their weeping, Beyond all human pity, And parted hearts are greeting Within the golden city. On earth all things deceive us, All lovely things are dying, Love only comes to leave us, Our singing turns to sighing. Poor frail and fainting mortals Who seek each other's pity We long to find the portals Of our own golden city. THE MARCHIONESS AND THE TWO COUNTS. THE marchioness was at her toilet. Florine and Aspasia, her two ladies'-maids, were busy powdering, as it were, with hoar frost, the bewitching widow. She was a widow, this marchioness, a widow of twenty-three; and wealthy, as very few persons were any longer at the court of Louis XV., her godfather. Three-and-twenty years earlier, his majesty had held her at the baptismal font of the chapel at Marly, and had settled upon her an income of four thousand pounds by way of proving to ber father, the Baron Fontevrault, who had saved his life at the battle of Fontenoy, that kings can be grateful, whatever people choose to say to the contrary. The marchioness, then, was a widow. She resided, during the summer, in a charming little chateau, situated half-way up the slope, overhanging the water, on the road from Bougival to St. Germain. The fine estate of the Countess Dubarry, the king's favorite mistress, adjoined hers; and on opening her eyes she could see, without rising, the white gable ends and the wide-spreading chestnut-trees of Luciennes, perched upon the heights. On this particular day-it was noon-the marchioness, whilst her attendants dressed her hair and arranged her headdress with the most exquisite taste, gravely employed herself in tossing up, alternately, a couple of fine oranges, which crossed each other in the air, and then dropped into the white and delicate hand that caught them in their fall. This sleight-of-hand-which the marchioness interrupted at times while she adjusted her beauty-spot on her lip, or cast an impatient glance on the crystal clock that told how time was running away with the fair widow's precious moments-had lasted for ten minutes, when the folding doors were thrown open, and a valet, such as one sees now only on the stage, announced with pompous voice-"The king!" Apparently the marchioness was accustomed to such visits; for she but half rose from her seat, as she saluted with her most gracious smile the personage who entered. It was indeed Louis XV. himself-Louis XV. at sixty-five; but robust, upright, with smiling lip and beaming eye, and jauntily clad in a close-fitting, pearl-gray hunting suit, that became him to perfection. He carried under his arm a handsome fowling-piece, inlaid with mother-of-pearl; a small pouch, intended for ammunition alone, hung over his shoulder. The king had come from Luciennes, almost alone-that is to say, with a captain of the guard, the old Marshal de Richelleu, and a single equerry on foot. He had been amusing himself with quail-shooting; but a shower of hail had surprised him, and his majesty had no relish for it. Fortunately, he was but a few steps from the gateway of the chateau when the shower commenced. He had come therefore to take shelter with his god-daughter, having dismissed his suite, and only keeping with him a magnificent pointer. "Good morning, marchioness," said the king, as be entered, putting down his fowling-piece in a corner. "I have come to is twenty-five; he is ambitious. I should like a husband vastly who was longing to reach high offices of state. Greatness has {its own particular merit." "Then marry Count de Beaugency." ask your hospitality. We were caught in a shower, at your "I tell you so every day. Oh, what fine oranges !" "But," said he at length, "what are oranges doing by the side of your Chinese powder-hox and your scent-bottles? Is there any connection between this fruit and the maintenance, easy as it is, marchioness, of your charms?'' "These oranges," replied the lady, gravely, "fulfilled just now, sire, the functions of destiny." The king opened wide his eyes, and stroked the long ears of his dog, by way of giving the marchioness time to explain her meaning. "It was the countess who gave them to me," she continued. "Madame Dubarry!"' "Exactly so, sire." "A trumpery gift, it seems to me, marchioness." "I have thought of that, also; but this poor unt de Men "Very good," exclaimed the king, laughing. Now I see to what purpose the oranges are destined. Menneval pleases "Just so, sire. But observe what happens."' "That, unwilling and unable to play unfairly, I take equal pains to catch the two oranges as they come down; and that I catch them both, each time." "Well, are you willing that I should take part in your game?" You, sire? Ab, what a joke that would be!'' "I am very clumsy, marchioness. To a certainty, in less than three minutes Beaugency and Menneval will be rolling on the floor." "Ah!" exclaimed the lady; "and if you have any prefer ence for one or the other?" "No; we'll do better. Look, I take the two oranges-you mark them carefully; or, better still, you stick into one of "I hold it, on the contrary, to be an important one; since I them one of these toilet pins, making up your own mind which repeat to your majesty, that these oranges decide my fate." "I give it up," said the king. of the two is to represent Beaugency, and leaving me on that "Imagine, sire; yesterday I found the countess occupied in point entirely in the dark. If Beaugency touch the floor, you tossing her oranges up and down, in this way;" and the ma-resign yourself to become an ambassadress." shall marry his rival; if it happen just otherwise, you shall chioness recommenced her game with a skill that cannot be described. "Precisely so, sire." "And do you dabble in politics, marchioness? Have you a fancy for uniting with the countess, just to mortify my poor ministers?'' "By no means, sire; for, in place of Monsieur de Choiseul and the Duke de Praslin, I was saying to myself, just now, 'Up, Menneval! up, Beaugency !'"' "Excellent! Now, sire, let's see the result" above his head. But, at the third pass, the two rolled down The king took the two oranges and played shuttle with them upon the embroidered carpet, and the marchioness broke out into a merry fit of laughter. "I foresaw as much," exclaimed his majesty. "What a clumsy fellow I am!" "And we more puzzled than ever, sire !" "So we are, marchioness; but the best thing we can do is to slice the oranges, sugar them well, and season them with a dash of ram." Ay. ay," returned the king; "and why the deuce would the marchioness, in piteous accents. you have them jumping, those two good-looking noblemen-be settled ?" Menneval, who is a Croesus, and Beaugency, who is a statesman, and dances the minuet to perfection." "And Count de Menneval? and Count de Beaugency?'' said "How is the question to "I'll tell you," said the lady. "You know, sire, that Count de Menneval is an accomplished gentleman, a handsome man, a gallant cavalier, an indefatigable dancer, and longing for nothing so much as to live in the country, on his estate in Touraine, on the banks of the Loire, with the woman whom he loves or will love, far from the court, from grandeur, and from turmoil. Nor are you unaware, sire, that Count de Beaugency is one of the most brilliant courtiers of Versailles; ambitious, burning with zeal for the service of your majesty, and capable of going to the end of the earth—with the title of Ambassador of the King of France." "But, "I know that," chimed in Louis XV. with a laugh. alas! I have more ambassadors than embassies. My antechambers overflow every morning." "Now," continued the marchioness, "I have been a widow the king, came to inform his mistress that Count de Beaugency these two years past." was in the drawing-room, and solicited the favor of admission to pay his respects. "A long time, there's no denying." "Ah!" sighed she, "there's no need to tell me so, sire. But Count de Menneval loves me at least, he says so, and I am easily persuaded." "Very well; then marry Count de Menneval." "I have thought of it, sire; and, in truth, I might do much worse. I should like well enough to live in the country, under the willow trees, on the borders of the river, with a husband, fond, yielding, loving! But," added the lady, "Count de Beaugency loves me equally well." "Ab, ha! the ambitious man !" "Ambition does not shut out love, sire. Count de Beaugency "Capital!" said Louis XV. smiling as though he were eighteen; "show Count de Beaugency in. Marchioness you will receiv him, and tell him the price that you set upon your hand." "And what is this price, sire ?'' "You must give him the choice, either to renounce you, or to consent to send in to me his resignation of his appointments, in order that he may go and bury himself with his wife on his estate of Courlac, in Poitou, there to live the life of a country nobleman." "And then, sire?" "Yon will allow him a couple of hours for reflection, and so dismiss him. "And in the end?" "The rest is my concern." And the king got up, taking his dog and his gun, and concealed himself behind a screen, drawing also a curtain, that he might be completely hidden. "What is your intention, sire ?" asked the marchioness. "I conceal myself, like the kings of Persia, from the eyes of my subjects," replied Louis XV. "Hush! marchioness." A few moments later, and the Count de Beaugency entered the room. The count was a charming cavalier; tall, slight, with a moustache black and curling upwards, an eye sparkling and intelligent, a Roman nose, an Austrian lip, a firm step. a noble and imposing presence. The marchioness blushed slightly at the sight of him, but offered him her hand to kiss, and begged him by a gesture to be seated. "Marchioness," said Beaugency, as he held in his hands the rosy fingers of the lovely widow, "it is fully a week since you received me!" "A week? why, you were here yesterday!'"' "A compliment which may be found in one of the younger Crebillon's books!" "You are hard upon me, marchioness." Perhaps so; it comes naturally; I am tired." "Ah, marchioness! Heaven knows that I would make of your existence one never ending fete !'' "That would at least be wearisome." "To carry me off to Courlac. It is there that your almoner shall unite us, in the chapel, in the presence of your domestics and your vassals, our only witnesses." “A singular whim, marchioness; but I submit to it." 66 'Very well. We will set out this evening. Ah! I forgot." "What, further?'' "Before starting, you will send in your resignation to the king." Count de Beaugency almost bounded from his seat. "Do you dream of that, marchioness?'' "Assuredly. You will not at Courlac be able to perform your duties at court." "Nowhere. We will remain at Courlac." "All the summer?" "And all the winter. I count upon settling myself there, "Say a word, my lady, one single word, and my fortune my after our marriage. I have a horror of the court. I do not future prospects, my ambition-" like the turmoil. Grandeur wearies me. I look forward only to a simple and charming country life-to the tranquil and happy existence of the forgotten lady of the castle. What matters it to you? You are ambitious for my love's sake. I care but little for ambition; you ought to care for it still less, since you are in love with me." "But, marchioness-" "Hush! it's a bargain. Still, for form's sake, I give you one hour to reflect. There, pass out that way; go into the winter drawing-room that you will find at the end of the gal "I may be right, marchioness! Listen to me, my fair lady-lery, and send me your answer upon a leaf of your tablets. I love." "I am all attention, my lord.” "Between us, who are well born, and consort not with plebeians, that vulgar and sentimental sort of love which is painted by those who write books for your mantuamakers and chambermaids, would he in exceedingly bad taste. It would be but slighting love and making no account of its enjoyment, were we to go and bury it in some obscure corner of the provinces, or if Paris-we, who belong to Versailles--living away there with it, in monotonous solitude and unchanging contemplation !" "Ah!" said the marchioness, "you think so?'' "Tell me, rather, of fetes that dazzle one with lights, with noise, with smiles, with wit, through which one glides intoxicated, with the fair conquest in triumph on one's arm. Why hide one's happiness, in place of parading it? The jealousy of the world does but increase, and cannot diminish it. My uncle, the cardinal, stands well at court. He has the king's ear, and will, ere long, procure me one of the northern embassies. Cannot you fancy yourself madame the Ambassadress, treading on the platform of a drawing-room, as royalty with royalty, with the ighest nobility of a kingdom-having the men at your feet, and the women on lower seats around you, whilst you yourself are occupant of a throne, and wield a sceptre." And as Count de Beaugency warmed with his own eloquence, be gently slid from his seat to the knees of the marchioness, whose hand he covered with kisses. She listened to him, with a smile on her lips, and then abruptly said to him, "Rise, my lord, and hear me in turn. Are you in truth sincerely attached to me?'' am about to complete my toilet, which I left unfinished to receive you." And the marchioness opened a door, bowed Beaugency into the corridor, and closed the door upon him. "Marchioness," cried the king, from his hiding-place and through the screen, "you will offer Count de Menneval the embassy of Prussia, which I promise you for him." "And you will not emerge from your retreat?'' "Certainly not! It is far more amusing to remain behind the scenes. One hears all, laughs at one's ease, and is not troubled with saying anything." It struck two. Count de Menneval was announced. His majesty remained snug, and shammed dead. Count de Menneval was at all points a cavalier who yielded nothing to his rival, Count de Beaugency. He was fair. He had a blue eye, a broad forehead, a mouth that wore a dreamy expression, and that somewhat pensive air which became so well the troubadours of France in the olden time. He was timid, but he passionately loved the beautiful widow; and his dearest dream was of passing his whole life at her feet, in well-chosen retirement, far from those envious lookers-on, who are ever ready to fling their sarcasms on quiet happiness, and who dissemble their envy under a cloak of philosophie scepticism. He trembled as he entered the marchioness's boudoir. He remained standing before her, and blushed as he kissed her hand. At length, encouraged by a smile, emboldened by the solemnity of this coveted interview, he spoke to her of his love, with a poetic simplicity and an unpremeditated warmth of heart-the genuine enthusiasm of a priest, who has faith in the object of his adoration. As he spoke, the marchioness sighed, and said within herself, "He is right. Love is happiness. Love is to be two indeed, but one at the same time; and to be free from those importunate intermeddlers, the indifference or the mocking attention of the world." She remembered, however, the advice of the king, and thus addressed the count: "What will you indeed do, my lord, in order to convince me of your affections?" "All that man can do." "Marchioness," whispered Louis XV. in the ear of his goddaughter, "true love is that which does not shrink from a sacrifice.' "And the king peeled the second orange and ate it, as he placed the hand of the widow in that of De Menneval. Then he added: "I have been making three persons happy; the marchioness, whose indecision I have relieved; the Count de Menneval, who The count was less bold than Beaugency, who had talked of shall marry her; and Count de Beaugency, who will perchance conquering a throne. He was probably more sincere. "I am ambitious," said the widow. "Ah!" replied Count de Menneval, sorrowfully. prove a sorry Ambassador. In all this, I have only neglected my own interests, for I have been eating the oranges without and yet they pretend to say that I am a selfish sugar "And I would that the man whom I marry should aspire to monarch!" everything, and achieve everything." "I will try so to do, if you wish it." "Listen; I give you an hour to reflect. I am, you know, the king's god-daughter. I have begged of him an embassy for you." "Ah!" said Count de Menneval, with indifference. EVENING HOURS. THE evenings comprehend a large and invaluable portion of our time, upon the proper improvement of which depends, in "He has granted my request. If you love me, you will a very great degree, the intellectual and moral improvement accept the offer. We will be married this evening, and your and happiness of individuals and families. These evening excellency the ambassador to Prussia will set off for Berlin hours, on many accounts, are the best of our earthly existence. immediately after the nuptials. Reflect; I grant you an hour." Gathered around the cheerful and comfortable fire, the world "It is useless," answered Count de Menneval; "I have no shut out, the gleaming lights dispersing their animating beams need of reflection, for I love you. Your wishes are my orders; upon the family group, conversation flows with unwonted freeto obey you is my sole desire. I accept the embassy." dom, the pleasant tale is told and listened to with vivid in"Never mind," said she, trembling with joy and blushing terest. Reading from a good book is heard with attention and deeply. "Pass into the room, wherein you were just now wait-profit; and, in a well-managed household, while the members ing. I must complete my toilet, and I shall then be at your of the family generally are engaged in light but useful employservice. I will summon you." ments, some one may profitably entert in the rest-or all may engage in agreeable interchanges of thought and feeling. The marchioness handed out the second count by the righthand door, as she had handed out the first by the left; and then said to herself, "I shall be prettily embarrassed if Count de Beaugency should consent to end his days at Courlac!" Thereupon the king removed the sereen and reappeared. His majesty stepped quietly to the round table whereon he had replaced the oranges, and took up one of them. "Ah!" exclaimed the marchioness, "I perceive, sire, that you foresee the difficulty that is about to spring up, and go back accordingly to the oranges, in order to settle it." As his sole reply, Louis XV. took a small ivory handled penknife from his waistcoat pocket, made an incision in the rind of the orange, peeled it off very neatly, divided the fruit into two parts, and offered one to the astonished marchioness. A great deal may be accomplished for the mind of a family by providing entertaining and instructing reading. It is wonderful how much may be done to open, enlarge and improve the mind and heart of a household through the medium of a book or magazine, read and commented upon while the family are collected around the fire when the business of the day is done. Suppose a family seated after tea, and while the mother and daughter are engaged in some light and ordinary employment, an intelligent boy takes down a rew book which was brought to him to-day by his father, and commences reading aloud. The first two or three pages contain an interesting chapter of bistory, ancient or modern; next comes a touching moral story; then a beautiful little poem; then a chapter of travels; after that some information in geography, or a description of some curious trade or difficult art; and thus to the end of the book, article after article, each giving some new, valuabie and pleasing instruction, while the whole is suitably embellished Count de Menneval loves you better with engraved representations of the thing described. than Count de Beaugency." "But, sire, what are you doing?" was her eager inquiry. "It was of no manner of use to us. " "That is not quite certain yet; let us wait." Surely an hour spent in this way will not only pass agreeably, but all will be benefited; they will be improved by the "Look," said the king, pointing to the valet who entered experience; probably every member of such a family will know with a note from Beaugency. "You'll soon see." The widow opened the note, and read: "MADAM-I love you--heaven is my witness; and to give you up is the most cruel of sacrifices. But I am a nobleman. A nobleman belongs to the king. My life, my blood are his. I cannot, without forfeit of my loyalty, abandon his service-" "Et cetera," chimed in the king, as was observed by the Abbé Fleury, my tutor. Marchioness, call in Count de Menne val." Count de Menneval entered, and was greatly troubled to see the king in the widow's boudoir. "Count," said his majesty, "Lord de Beaugency was deeply in love with the marchioness; but he was more deeply still in love-since he would not renounce it, to please her-with the embassy to Prussia. And you, you love the marchioness much better than you love me, since you would only enter my service for her sake. This leads me to believe that you would be but a lukewarm public servant, and that Count de Beaugency will make an excellent Ambassador. He will start for Berlin this evening; and you shall marry the marchioness. I will be present at the ceremony." something he did not know before; and even without much advantage of school education, the children of this family grow up to be intelligent, refined, and respectable members of society. We throw out these suggestions for the benefit of tha families into which this journal may find admission. But there may be individuals who are not so fortunate as to belong to families that feel an interest in such culture as we have spoken of. Let not such persons, therefore, despond. If any young person will diligently improve his evening hours by himself, he will soon be abundantly compensated by the acquisition of induce him to part with. a fund of knowledge which no pecuniary consideration would MAXIM BY A MAN OF THE WORLD-Never refuse assistance to a friend in distress, unless you are quite sure that you will never be in a position to require his aid in return; or, if you are, that you won't get it. INDUSTRY-Industry and economy will get rich, while sagacity and intrigue are laying their plans. |
