It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single woman in possession of a good novel writ by the hand of Miss Jane Austen must at some point in her life enter a temporary state of delirium.
This state, once in full possession of the young lady’s mind and body, will treat her most unkindly. Fortunates will be inclined to prolonged periods of self-induced solitary confinement and eye strain from exhausting their texts. Others, I dare say, may be disposed to frantic bouts of preaching and, on occasion, hallucination.
Having just recently enrolled in a class modelled on the teachings of Miss Austen, I must now confide that this exact delirium is how I found myself at the St. Barnabas Church of Danforthshire this past evening, for an extraordinary Ball in the theme of Miss Austen herself.
In what raptures I am returned! I am quite in a state of ecstasy, though I fear the excessive excitements of the evening have proven too harsh for my female constitution, as I have now come down with a most unwelcome cold.
The ball was held by Lady Karen Millyard, an eccentric woman who has dubiously chosen to work for a living and, what is more, pursue a profession in the arts. Her artistic connections are undoubtedly questionable, though I chose to ignore this aspect of her character for the sake of convenience.
Danforthshire, I fear, is quite towards the east end of town and so, coming from the west end, I dare say the travel is thirty minutes by horse drawn carriage but thirty minutes and one hour if travelling by the public transportation services offered by the county. (Though the public transport operates with no horses to stop or tend to, this does not seem to keep it from frequent delays.)
Lady Karen took all measures to ensure an evening of great propriety by providing etiquette tutorials, which began in the early afternoon. As most persons present were, like I, foreign to the area and its customs, a brief presentation and instruction were given to those who were not entirely confident in their fashionability.
I was most pleased to hear news that Lady Caroline Lamb, a Lady of notable aristocracy and in close relations with Lord Byron, had recently cut her hair out of hysteria, and thus the cropped fashioning of my own hair is, at the moment, quite in vogue. The gentlemen present were directed under the teachings of Mister Beau Brummel, a gentleman whose influence on the fashions in this region are respected without hesitation. I dare say it was not five and forty minutes before each person in the room was properly Londonized and prepared for an evening of the most agreeable sort.
The dance instruction, which took up much of the afternoon, proceeded with much ease. I falsely believed this to be a truthful indication of my abilities for the evening. My, how wrong I was.
The ball finally began at a quarter past the hour of eight, a fifteen-minute delay due wholly to the long and particular dressing preparations of the women. The men, at this point, took to playing a game of whist while waiting on our attendance.
As it was, the men were greatly outnumbered by women for reasons I cannot possibly fathom. Perhaps a sporting event of some kind took them to the country that night, away from such a fine evening in town.
Of the few gentlemen present, I conversed with many whose manners were amiable and charming, which I found quite disappointing. From all I have previously learned from Miss Austen, no woman of a sensible disposition would foolishly trust a man who displays any approbation or gentlemanlike behaviour. In fact there was one gentleman whose manners were so generally pleasing that I did not even bother to enquire after the sum of his annuity, for I knew no good could ever come from his kind spirit. As I humbly awaited the presence of a gentleman whose manners were less civil, I occupied my time with the most enjoyable dancing.
The first dance of the evening was Auretti’s Dutch Skipper and the quartet that serenaded the room was of the highest skill. When one took pause to watch their surroundings, the delicate symmetry of the dances coupled with the extraordinary materials that were worn that evening made quite a beautiful spectacle.
Some ladies of Hamilton were fashioned in beautiful country wear, while others had beautiful gowns of satin and feather attachments that were quite grand. Some gentlemen appeared to be from the military and dressed in uniform. An older gentleman, Sir Hans of Denmark, not only wore a most respectable cravat and jacket but also proved to be a most agreeable dance partner for Hole in the Wall.
One party present were clearly well versed in the dancing from this region, as they exhibited much grace and such a thorough knowledge of the dance steps that hardly any blunders were made on their part.
However, I must divulge that the gentleman of this party made his superior knowledge quite known to us all by huffing and rolling his eyes at our smallest mistakes. His slight was unconscionable and what is more, even with such a shortage of men he refused to dance with any outside of his own party. In fact, I found his general snobbery and ill manners so insufferable that I am quite sure we shall be married within the fortnight.
The regret in my dancing, to which I have previously alluded, did not come until later in the evening. The partner with whom I danced Juice of Barley made such an egregious mistake that his misstep echoed through the entire line until Lady Karen had to come over and personally assist our recovery. As I was at the centre of such an irreconcilable embarrassment, I am grateful that no word seems to have yet passed through any respected social connections.
The Ball by all measures was an enjoyable one, and I was left with a most cheerful countenance and satisfaction at half past ten when the evening came to a close. It is my full intention to return to Danforthshire for the Ball this April, where I am hopeful that no such dreaded embarrassments await me and I may perhaps have better luck finding an esteemed suitor.
Until then I can now only hope that the illness, which presently confines itself to a bearable cold, may soon develop into a fever of more heightened danger, after which I am sure that a chivalrous gentleman may then ardently come to my care.
Humbly,
I am &c-
