Life is Simple

Lesson 1

I wonder to myself, as I sit confined to the plump dining chair, why the drapes cause such an eyesore in relation to the color of the room. Who would think to pair yellow-flocked wallpaper with violet drapes? Absolutely atrocious indeed! Thank goodness the furnishings are white, or else I may live in the ugliest house known in America!

"Ms. Bellemont, must your mind wonder!"

"My deepest apologies, Mrs. Woolstone." I bowed my head humbly to her remark.

"Watch me, child, watch! Posture is everything. It is what makes you appear as a distinguished child of society." Mrs. Woolstone sat herself up straight with her pointy chin waving in the air. She stepped around the open dining hall with her lace covered hands grasping one another behind her back.

"How marvelous, I do wish to walk as distinguished as you do." I sat at the edge of my seat, never to slouch, and kept my hands in my lap. My corset squeezed at my sides making me quite ill.

"Alright, dear. Join me now." She offered her delicate hand doused in liver spots to come to my rescue. I took it with a smile stained in pink tint and femininity.

"I must say, Ms. Bellemont, your gown is stunning!" I blushed as I clenched the pale blue sides in my hands.

"Thank you, Mrs. Woolstone. Mr. Hudson fashioned it for me. With the premature onset of spring, I thought I ought to purchase a new, airy gown." Mrs. Woolstone would often start formal conversations with me as part of my housewife education. She grinned in response before addressing the lesson.

I sat up straight until my shoulder blades rubbed past each other. My mind could not leave the hideous wallpaper that surrounded my father's home, or the dizziness that came with the tightened corset.

"Chin up, dear."

"You're steps are too long." She criticized with patience stringing her comments together.

"May I ask what you think of my father's new wallpaper?" I curtseyed and bowed; the uneven weight of my updo forced my head into a jolting pain.

"What I think of it?" Her misty eyes studied the  wall- up and down- before forming an opinion.

"Well, I do believe it is quite bright." She considered.

"Do you know what I think of it? I think it is quite hideous and it makes my stomach churn, that is what I have to say about it." Getting angry was quite an exercise! My brow began to sweat and the scent of rose started to melt away from my skin. I quickly picked up my fan and whisked it at my face.

"How do you fair, daughter. You look flushed." Mr. Bellemont was in the process of making his way to the library across the hall, but became sidetracked at the sight of his daughter's complexion.

"I am flushed, Father. My anger has taken a toll on my body." I leaned over the dining table with one hand on the yellow tablecloth and the other wrapped around my fan.

"Breathe child and do not anger." He looked up from the golden spectacles that hung from the tip of his angular nose.

"I cannot!" I poked at my fair skin to make sure that I was not perspiring. Perspiring is for workers in the fields and not for ladies who spend time indoors.

"Mrs. Woolstone, is my hair still kept?" I asked in grave fear.

"I see no problem with it." She fluffed the curls that draped from my lower neck.

"You have not seen Isabelle, have you?" Mr. Bellemont broke from his daily ritual of sorting through the mail.

"No, Father. I believe she is in the kitchen preparing dinner with the others. If you would like I can go fetch her." I offered as I let myself cool with a glass of water provided by the one of the servant-children.