The girls had learned to dance at Papanti's; but they hadnot belonged to the private classes. They did noteven know of them, and a great gulf divided themfrom those who did. Their father did not likecompany, except such as came informally in theirway; and their mother had remained too rustic toknow how to attract it in the sophisticated cityfashion. None of them had grasped the idea ofEuropean travel; but they had gone about tomountain and sea-side resorts, the mother and thetwo girls, where they witnessed the spectaclewhich such resorts present throughout New England,of multitudes of girls, lovely, accomplished,exquisitely dressed, humbly glad of the presenceof any sort of young man; but the Laphams had noskill or courage to make themselves noticed, farless courted by the solitary invalid, orclergyman, or artist. They lurked helplesslyabout in the hotel parlors, looking on and notknowing how to put themselves forward. Perhapsthey did not care a great deal to do so. They hadnot a conceit of themselves, but a sort of contentin their own ways that one may notice in certainfamilies. The very strength of their mutualaffection was a barrier to worldly knowledge; theydressed for one another; they equipped their housefor their own satisfaction; they lived richly tothemselves, not because they were selfish, butbecause they did not know how to do otherwise.The elder daughter did not care for society,apparently. The younger, who was but three yearsyounger, was not yet quite old enough to beambitious of it. With all her wonderful beauty,she had an innocence almost vegetable. When herbeauty, which in its immaturity was crude andharsh, suddenly ripened, she bloomed and glowedwith the unconsciousness of a flower; she notmerely did not feel herself admired, but hardlyknew herself discovered. If she dressed well,perhaps too well, it was because she had theinstinct of dress; but till she met this young manwho was so nice to her at Baie St. Paul, she hadscarcely lived a detached, individual life, sowholly had she depended on her mother and hersister for her opinions, almost her sensations.She took account of everything he did and said,pondering it, and trying to make out exactly whathe meant, to the inflection of a syllable, theslightest movement or gesture. In this way shebegan for the first time to form ideas which shehad not derived from her family, and they werenone the less her own because they were oftenmistaken.
Private Lessons: Another Story
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