Regarding her “dressed” (22) hair, the speaker feels
Adisillusioned
Brelieved
Cdissatisfi ed
Dproud
Ebemused
Passage 1. Frances Burney, Evelina
We are to go this evening to a private ball, given by Mrs. Stanley, a very fashionable
lady of Mrs. Mirvan’s acquaintance.
We have been a-shopping as Mrs. Mirvan calls it, all this morning, to buy silks,
caps, gauzes, and so forth.
Th e shops are really very entertaining, especially the mercers; there seem to be
six or seven men belonging to each shop; and every one took care by bowing and
smirking, to be noticed. We were conducted from one to another, and carried from
room to room with so much ceremony, that I was almost afraid to go on.
I thought I should never have chosen a silk: for they produced so many, I knew
not which to fi x upon; and they recommended them all so strongly, that I fancy
they thought I only wanted persuasion to buy every thing they showed me. And,
indeed, they took so much trouble, that I was almost ashamed I could not.
At the milliners, the ladies we met were so much dressed, that I should rather
have imagined they were making visits than purchases. But what most diverted me
was, that we were more frequently served by men than by women; and such men!
so fi nical, so aff ected! they seemed to understand every part of a woman’s dress better
than we do ourselves; and they recommended caps and ribbands with an air of
so much importance, that I wished to ask them how long they had left off wearing
them.
Th e dispatch with which they work in these great shops is amazing, for they
have promised me a complete suit of linen against the evening.
I have just had my hair dressed. You can’t think how oddly my head feels; full
of powder and black pins, and a great cushion on the top of it. I believe you would
hardly know me, for my face looks quite diff erent to what it did before my hair was
dressed. When I shall be able to make use of a comb for myself I cannot tell; for my
hair is so much entangled, frizzled they call it, that I fear it will be very diffi cult.
I am half afraid of this ball to-night; for, you know, I have never danced but at
school: however, Miss Mirvan says there is nothing in it. Yet, I wish it was over.
Adieu, my dear Sir, pray excuse the wretched stuff I write; perhaps I may
improve by being in this town, and then my letters will be less unworthy your reading.
Meantime, I am, Your dutiful and aff ectionate, though unpolished, EVELINA
We are to go this evening to a private ball, given by Mrs. Stanley, a very fashionable
lady of Mrs. Mirvan’s acquaintance.
We have been a-shopping as Mrs. Mirvan calls it, all this morning, to buy silks,
caps, gauzes, and so forth.
Th e shops are really very entertaining, especially the mercers; there seem to be
six or seven men belonging to each shop; and every one took care by bowing and
smirking, to be noticed. We were conducted from one to another, and carried from
room to room with so much ceremony, that I was almost afraid to go on.
I thought I should never have chosen a silk: for they produced so many, I knew
not which to fi x upon; and they recommended them all so strongly, that I fancy
they thought I only wanted persuasion to buy every thing they showed me. And,
indeed, they took so much trouble, that I was almost ashamed I could not.
At the milliners, the ladies we met were so much dressed, that I should rather
have imagined they were making visits than purchases. But what most diverted me
was, that we were more frequently served by men than by women; and such men!
so fi nical, so aff ected! they seemed to understand every part of a woman’s dress better
than we do ourselves; and they recommended caps and ribbands with an air of
so much importance, that I wished to ask them how long they had left off wearing
them.
Th e dispatch with which they work in these great shops is amazing, for they
have promised me a complete suit of linen against the evening.
I have just had my hair dressed. You can’t think how oddly my head feels; full
of powder and black pins, and a great cushion on the top of it. I believe you would
hardly know me, for my face looks quite diff erent to what it did before my hair was
dressed. When I shall be able to make use of a comb for myself I cannot tell; for my
hair is so much entangled, frizzled they call it, that I fear it will be very diffi cult.
I am half afraid of this ball to-night; for, you know, I have never danced but at
school: however, Miss Mirvan says there is nothing in it. Yet, I wish it was over.
Adieu, my dear Sir, pray excuse the wretched stuff I write; perhaps I may
improve by being in this town, and then my letters will be less unworthy your reading.
Meantime, I am, Your dutiful and aff ectionate, though unpolished, EVELINA