easy to please with another suitor. She was very well content at home. Her father was one of the greatest scholars of the time, which suited a certain seriousness in Dorothy; her mother was one of the beautiful and accomplished Percys; and she herself was certainly the spoilt child of the family. The Home Life of the Sidneys About the only flaw in the home life was the way in which the memory of Sir Philip and the saintly Lady Mary was perpetually held up to the children. As a rule, saints, even in a book of saints, are sufficiently depressing examples to hold before the eyes of a high-spirited set of youngsters. Aunts, too, as domestic examples are a little aweinspiring, but an aunt who was a saint, and has been dead for many years, so that no evidence of unsaintliness can ever be discovered, is really rather overpowering. And a deceased uncle of similar high qualities, whose example bids fair to render permanently melancholy one of one's brothers, is, perhaps, more likely to be esteemed than loved by a young niece, merry, beautiful, witty, spoiled, popular, and idolised. The affair with Lord Mandeville never came to anything. In fact, he married one of Dorothy's aunts during the course of his weddings, which is enough to kill a romance in any healthy girl. During these years a young man came to stay with some cousins near Penshurst, and made the acquaintance of Lady Dorothy. He was a rich young widower, twenty-nine years old, already a well-known poet, handsome, brilliant, accomplished, and, in everything but birth, a most eligible person. Perhaps if he had been less obviously eligible, Dorothy might have fallen in love with him. As it was, she was the one person who did not fall captive to him. Lord Leicester himself was much attracted, and wanted him to marry one of his younger daughters, but Waller went mad on the spot, and only recovered his sanity after some time, thus showing that he was not to be trifled with. Waller went on courting Dorothy without encouragement. He was only one of a large band who were doing the same thing. Among others, she rejected the famous Lord Lovelace. A marriage was suggested with Sir William Temple, but somehow this, and many others, failed to come off. At last, despairing of Dorothy ever falling in love in the right quarter, Lord and Lady Leicester exercised their prerogative, and arranged a marriage for her with a man she had never seen, Lord Henry Spencer, a quiet and studious youth of nineteen. They were married in July, 1639, and, contrary to all romantic laws as to what should happen in an arranged marriage, they fell in love with each other, and were extremely happy. The disconcerted Waller wrote a rather odd letter of congratulation, not to Dorothy, but to the sister Lord Leicester had wished him to marry, a letter in which, though wishing her incidentally all happiness in this life, he seems far more interested in an aspiration that she and her lord may die together, and go to that place where we are told there is neither marriage nor giving in marriage, that, being there divorced, we may all have an equal interest in her again." The young couple spent several years with Lord Leicester in Paris, where a boy and a girl were born to them. But they were back in England before the outbreak of the Civil War, during the course of which Spencer, who had volunteered in the King's cause, was made Earl of Sunderland, an honour which he enjoyed only for a year, for he fell at Newbury. Clarendon describes him as "a lord of great fortune, tender years-being not above three and twenty years of age-and an early judgment, who, having no command in the army, attended upon, the King's person under the obligation of honour, and putting himself that day into the King's troop a volunteer, before they came to charge was taken away by a cannon bullet." Dorothy's grief was very great. Indeed, it threatened her life when, a fortnight afterwards, a little boy was born. A very beautiful letter is extant from Lord Leicester to his widowed daughter: "I know you lived happily, and so as none but yourself could measure the contentment of it. I rejoiced at it, and did thank God for making me one of the means to procure it for you. That now is past, and I will not flatter you so much as to say I think you can ever be so happy in this life again; but this comfort you owe me, that I may see you bear this change and your misfortunes patiently. I doubt not but your eyes are full of tears, and not the emptier for those they shed. God comfort you. Remember how apprehensive he was of your dangers, and how sorry for anything that troubled you. Imagine that he sees how you afflict and hurt yourself. He may censure you, and think you forgetful of the friendship that was between you, if you pursue not his desires in being careful of yourself, who was so dear unto him." Gathering Clouds For seven years Lady Sunderland lived quietly at Penshurst with her father. During this time the little boy who had been born at such a sad time, died. On the very day of his death the house was entered by armed soldiers, and Lady Carlisle, Dorothy's aunt, was carried off to the Tower on a charge of complicity in a conspiracy to restore the monarchy. A little while afterwards the two younger children of Charles I. were sent to Penshurst. The Sidneys were forbidden to call them by their titles, but as it was they did too much for the welfare of the heartbroken children, who were soon afterwards taken away to Carisbrooke, where Princess Elizabeth died of sorrow not long afterwards. Lady Sunderland then spent some years at Althorp, her son's seat, where for ten or twelve years she devoted herself to her family, and to aiding distressed clergymen whose lives had been convulsed by the civil troubles. It was she who planned the great staircase at Althorp. When she had been for nine years a widow, she married Sir Robert (then Mr.) Smythe, or Smith, an old admirer, and a connection of the family. Lord Leicester did not go to the wedding, although it was held at Penshurst. He seems to have disapproved of it. Dorothy Osborne, who had never quite forgiven Lady Sunderland for having nearly married Sir William Temple, writes on this occasion to her husband: "I am altogether of your mind, that my Lady Sunderland is not to be followed in her marrying fashion, and that Mr. Smith never appeared less her servant than in desiring it; to speak truth, it was convenient for neither of them, and in people had been plain undoing one another, which I cannot understand meaner be to kindness of either side. She has lost by it much of the repute she had gained by keeping herself widow; it was then believed that wit and discretion were to be reconciled in her son that have per SO seldom been persuaded to meet in anybody else. But we are all mortal." Lady Sunderland seems to have been of the guilty 5149 the example, but I do not find that the men Although she was very happy with her Dorothy Sidney, Countess of Sunderland, immortalised by the Stuart poet, Waller, as "Sacharissa" violently bad taste of saying that she ever heard," making him so At this present we do abound in stories of my Lady Sunderland and Mr. Smith-with what reverence he approaches her, and how like a gracious princess she receives him, that they say 'tis worth going twenty miles to see it. All our ladies are mightily pleased with Waller, with the bluntness of a discarded The The close of her life was sorrowful. brother who had been so affected by the memory of his uncle, the great Sir Philip Sidney, was executed. A daughter died, and the political intrigues in which she had involved herself seemed doomed to failure. It rather spoils the reputation of the stained glass Lady Sunderland, the saccharine Sacharissa," that in later years she was a confirmed gossip. But, after all, if she had been nothing but sweet and scornful, and devout and sorrowful, she would have been a very intolerable kind of person, instead of one who all her life was loved and honoured. She was so beautiful that painters were never tired of painting her. Vandyke has given her to us as a shepherdess, with a broad, turned-up hat, a crook, a bunch of roses, and a rose at her breast. At Penshurst there is a charming miniature of her in blue, with a white rose in her hair. Steele wrote in the "Tatler ": "The fine women they show me nowadays are at best pretty girls to me, who have seen Sacharissa when all the world repeated the poems she inspired." As for Waller, his poems are full of references to "those curls where a hundred Cupids sit "-most restless of head-dresses ! He requests the beeches to tell her that if they were all burned in one big bonfire It could not equalise the hundredth part Perhaps his most famous poem inspired by her is "Go, Lovely Rose," but certainly the finest is that written in after years, when, recalling the tempestuous and painful pleasure of the time when he was in love, and contrasting it with his present calm, he wrote the famous verse: The soul's dark cottage, battered and decayed, As they draw near to their eternal home. Why One Looks One's Worst on Special Occasions-Wise Preparations for Special Toilet"Beauty Bags" for Daily and Special Use-Brilliantines-About Mirrors-Milk of Roses-The Complexion under Artificial Light THERE are some women who, unless under some special stress which upsets their daily lives, always look at their best. These are women of leisure, counting their toilet as one of the most important duties of the day. But, on the other hand, there are a greater number of women who have to put many considerations before that of toilet, and who are perforce content with making a brief toilet during which the best result has to be obtained at the least possible expenditure of time. Long practice makes perfect, and in spite of all the toilet experts' advice to perform the toilet leisurely, it happens that often the busy woman looks at her best after her brief daily toilet. At any rate, she often finds that on the rare occasions when she makes a special effort she only succeeds in looking at her worst. There are some very sufficient reasons for this. To begin with, when the busy woman wants to look her best she starts proceedings by altering the fashion of her coiffure, or her dress, and generally sacrificing habit (and comfort) to appearance. The first consideration is to feel comfortable and at ease, and so far as one is uncomfortable, or not at ease, so far is one towards looking one's worst. Then the busy woman, in order to find time to devote to a more elaborate toilet, makes the mistake of hurrying over the tasks which have to be done first. She ends by feeling more worried and tired than on ordinary days. For the purposes of this article we will suppose that the woman who wishes to perform a special toilet for some especial occasion on which she wishes to look her best is a business woman. The busy woman at home has a further disadvantage here in never being able to call any time her own; she must, therefore, determine to put herself on at least the same basis as the business woman, and so arrange household duties that she has, with the business woman, time for preparation beforehand, and ample leisure on the day itself. Much depends on the preparation being done thoroughly, so as to avoid rush at the last moment, and allow time to dress leisurely. Everything should be tried on beforehand, buttons and loops getting an examination. Shampoo the hair at least a few days beforehand, so as to allow it time to regain the life and elasticity which is so often lost by the application of soap and water. As the natural oil begins to flow again to the roots of the hair, it ceases to be unmanageable, and can be dressed so as to stop up. For at least some days before evening dress is worn the woman who "dresses" every day will always give her neck and shoulders special attention-soft, scented water will be used for the daily ablutions. If the skin is discoloured, a paste made of oatmeal cooked in milk should be used as often as possible, leaving it to dry into the skin, and washing off just before dressing. The following mixture softens and scents the water. tablespoonful is to be put into a little bag, which has then to be dropped into a quart of very hot water : A Mix thoroughly, fill some little bags. Use one each day, and wash in the prepared water when it is cool. A Word on Dressing the Hair If the hair is accustomed to being arranged in some particular way, do not expect it to make a change of habit without remonstrance. It partakes of the body's dislike of interference with habits, and unless, like the woman of leisure, you have got your hair into the habit of not falling into a habit, so to say, by dressing it a new way very often, expect trouble when you do essay a change. Therefore, practise any new style of hairdressing on those days when you can afford to look your worst. For, apart from the fact that one's hair is one's greatest ornament, or one's greatest detraction, unless it be dressed with a view to enhance one's particular style or good point, the best laid plans, if not well carried out, are, in hairdressing, bound to go wrong. Whatever style is chosen must be practised thoroughly, so that it is effected smoothly and well, and is modified to suit the individual. He It is neglect of these considerations that makes a woman look her worst-or at least not her best-even when she submits her hair to the manipulation of an expert hairdresser. He, of course, chooses a style to suit the lady's features and expression. knows that a woman with large features should allow her hair to fall with natural carelessness around her forehead, and that it should not protrude from the profile. He understands that women with small faces should show as much forehead as possible and dress the hair loosely at the sides so as to give more importance to the head. He also knows how to choose a style that will go" with the dress and be suitable to the occasion. But what he cannot do, being merely human, is to put in those little individual touches and changes which, as every woman knows, makes all the difference 46 between a perfect coiffure and a coiffure which suits perfectly. He can only do such a service to a regular client, and a woman can only do it for herself after experiment and practice. The Dressing-room Now make arrangements that your dressing-room, for at least this special occasion, shall be warmed and comfortable. More spoiled evenings are due to the fatal mistake of dressing for them in a chilly bedroom than at first sight appears, and the recorder of not a few disappointments in love affairs might write, Cause: a chill dressing-room," if the truth were recognised. For the body never really recovers its good temper, and the nerves are irritable long after the warmth of a ballroom or theatre has dispelled the effects of a chill. The disadvantages of an uncomfortable dressing-room are not felt so much in summer, when the act of changing makes for coolness, and therefore comfort; but discomfort of any kind affects some nervous women in a special, and, under the circumstances, most unbecoming way. They flush, and when the flush fades their noses are red. Such women should avoid very hot or very cold drinks, and, at least on this one day, should avoid working the brain immediately after eating. They should also avoid flurry." The symptom might be checked for the time being by bathing the face in very hot milk, and precautions must be taken not to have any of the clothing or ornaments tight, especially round the neck, waist, wrists, and feet. Should the flush fade, leaving the checks pale and the nose red, then a little make-up becomes a necessity. For this a tinted liquid powder" is best. There is nothing to be gained by powdering the nose alone, as this procedure merely calls attention to the defect which it is desirable to hide. In theatrical make-up, the nose can be either given prominence, or have attention diverted from it by make-up being applied to the cheeks. A Beauty Bath Before beginning to dress, on the day itself, take a special beauty bath, or failing that, a sponge bath, prepared in the same way. Fill loosely a large muslin bag with bran. On to this turn the hot water, until a milky appearance is given to the bath. To this add the cold water, and as much eau-de-Cologne as you like; or, what is as good and inexpensive, though a little more trouble, a little cloudy ammonia and one of the following "aromatic" bags. The bag is of muslin, and only big enough to hold in the hand to use as a flesh-brush. The filling can be obtained for nothing from an old country garden, or for a few pence from any herbalist. Mix equal parts of lemon-scented thyme, marjoram, verbena, and tansy. If not found irritating to the skin, a handful of powdered orris-root may be added to these herbs for the sake of its violet perfume. The tonic effect of eau-de-Cologne on the skin is well known, and a bath as above gives one an indescribable and delicious sense of freshness and youth. The effect of the herbs is stimulating, and after use the skin feels. firm to the touch and looks young and vital. A cold shower or sponge should follow this bath, if possible, but, where the health is not good, a rest in bed afterwards is of greater value. Take a warm drink of milk, Bovril, or cocoa, but not tea, and perhaps some light refreshment. Rest properly under conditions as much like those obtaining at night as possible, and make the mind a blank. This can be done by will-power. Upon rising to dress, do not make the mistake of giving a special massage to face and neck. Your idea must be to make the best of things as they are; the skin must be soothed and dressed, but none of its troubles interfered with now. This mistake is one reason why some women, anxious to look their best, succeed only in looking their worst. It is possible to be over-anxious. Spread your favourite emollient cream on face and neck, and leave till the hair is dressed. Should the hair be of that dank type which persists in lying flat, sprinkle it with orrisroot, and brush out or rub the scalp with a small sponge dipped in eau-de-Cologne. Where, on the other hand, it has a tendency to stray from its position, and is dry and lifeless-looking, use brilliantine. A nice one is made by mixing four parts of oil of sweet almonds with one of essence of heliotrope. Another, giving a higher brilliance, is composed of two parts of petro-vaseline (liquid and clear vaseline) to one of eau-de-Cologne. This requires very well shaking before use, and is a tonic for the hair as well as a dressing. The Truthful Mirror The condition of the mirror is of more importance than it may seem. No mirror tells the exact truth, but the one nearest to this owning virtue is in a frame draped with soft white muslin, and stands with its back to the light. If only for this special occasion drape the mirror so that the frame is hidden in the full straight folds a plain muslin gives. Many mirrors are libellous, and the most flattering one does not show the reflection one has in human eyes. In actual life, grey hairs are, as the Irishman said, of no account as long as they can be counted. A face animated with interest has a meaning never told by a mirror calmly scrutinised. When the hair is dressed, study the effect in the draped mirror after putting a plain white towel as background to the head. This device causes the outline to be accentuated, so that one can see plainly where a curl or twist of hair is in an unbecoming position. Ugly blanks or stray hairs show up vividly against the towel. Now wipe the face with a soft towel, and dab with lait virginal or cold water, to which has been added a few drops of toilet vinegar, or cau-de-Cologne. Milk of roses serves the same purpose as lait virginal. To make it, take a pint of rosewater and add to it ten drops of oil of almonds. Mix and then add ten grains of salts of tartar. teaspoonful added to a pint of cold water is sufficient. An Aid to Beauty A Rub well into the skin with a bit of chamois leather and then powder. The colour of the lips may come up with stimulation. Rub lightly with the pumicestone and then apply a very little cream. Or suck a cayenne lozenge. Liquid rouge is the best for this kind of make-up, but a few drops of beetroot-juice may serve very well to heighten slightly the colour so as to counteract the pallor artificial light gives. For further simple make-up see page 2034, Vol. 3. But however slight the make-up used, be very careful to remove traces of it or any superfluous powder before leaving the dressing-room. It is better to use none than be caught in the act by the censorious public gaze. Three Simple Rules This leisurely and successful dressing will give a feeling of well-being and comfort, both essential to a good appearance, because both help one to appear unconscious of self. To be shy, nervous, and self-conscious is absolutely fatal to a good appearance, because the first rule in the art of being beautiful is to appear unconscious of one's appearance; the first rule in appearing welldressed is to appear unconscious of one's dress, and the first rule for a charming personality is to count oneself last-or at any rate appear to do so. To be able to appreciate and practise these rules is the only way to appear at one's best. |