If I Had My Own Blue Box:

“Consider that to-night is the only opportunity the gentlemen may ever have of hearing how adroitly the ladies can flatter them.”

“It is not in the bond,” replied Lucinda.

“What is not?”

“That the ladies should flatter gentlemen.”

“Excuse me,” said Colonel Kingswood; “the ladies having voluntarily taken the responsibility, the gentlemen must insist on their going regularly through the whole ball with all its accompaniments, including compliments, flattery and flirtation, and a seasoning of genuine courtship, of which last article there is always more or less at every large party. And as it appears, that Miss Mandeville has not faithfully done her part during the dance, she must make amends by doing it now.”

“On the latter subject,” said Fitzsimmons, “Miss Mandeville can need no prompting. Her own experience must have made her familiar with courtship in all its varieties.”

“Of course,” resumed the Colonel. “So, Miss Mandeville, you can be at no loss in what manner to begin.”

“And am I to stand here and to be courted?” said Fitzsimmons.

 This comes from “The Ladies’ Ball” in Pencil Sketches; or, Outlines of Character and Manners, by Miss Leslie. (Philadelphia, 1835) https://archive.org/details/atlantictalesor00leslgoog

This earlier compilation of Miss Leslies includes her stories from the periodical series “Pencil Sketches” These include: “The Wilson House; or, Village Gossip”, “The Album”, “The Reading Parties”, “The Set of China”, “Laura Lovel”, “John W. Robertson, A Tale of a Cent” and “The Ladies’ Ball”.

If you enjoy her short stories, you may also enjoy these:

Atlantic Tales: or, Pictures of Youth, by Miss Leslie. Boston. https://archive.org/details/atlantictalesor00leslgoog

Stories for Adelaide: Being a Second Series of Easy Reading Lessons, with Divided Syllables, by Eliza Leslie, Philadelphia, 1829. https://archive.org/stream/storiesforadelai00lesl#page/30/mode/2up

The Gift: A Christmas, New Year, and Birthday Present. Philadelphia, 1845 https://archive.org/stream/giftachristmasa01leslgoog#page/n15/mode/2up (A compilation of stories by others.)

Women in America; Being an Examination into the Moral and Intellectual Condition of American Female Society, by Mrs. A. J. Graves (New York:1844)

Look round upon the groups of young females who crowd our private parties or public balls; who lounge upon the sofa receiving visits, or throng the city promenades to exhibit their decorated persons or to make morning calls, and how many can you point out among them who have fulfilled one useful purpose of existence to themselves, to their families, or to society? And all this waste of time and energy in the pursuit of folly is in the hope of becoming thereby candidates for matrimony, while by this very means they are seeking to attain. Nor is this all: their efforts defeat the wished for end, inasmuch as the habits of indolence and extravagance in which so many young women are brought up, deter a multitude of young men from becoming husbands, lest they should involve themselves in pecuniary embarrassment; and as wealthy young men are extremely rare, we see marriages in fashionable life every day becoming fewer; thus leaving in our cities a numerous class of finely-dressed, pretty, and accomplished young ladies, doomed to become disappointed “establishment-seekers,” and to fade into fretful and repining “’old maids.” An intelligent, useful woman, who continues in a state of celibacy from choice or from disappointed affection, is an honoured and valuable member of society, but she whose youth has been spent in idleness and folly, and is seeking for a husband in crowded scenes of amusement, becomes a pitiable object – a burden to herself, and the jest and by-word of her acquaintance. (p52-53)

Among the many causes that are tending to deaden in the heart of woman a sense of her appropriate obligations, is the fatal notion that there is something servile in labour. It is, indeed, much to be lamented, that in the praiseworthy effort to redeem herself from the life of slavery and degradation to which past ages doomed her, so many of her sex should have passed to the other extreme – a life of indolence and uselessness Nor is this notion that there is gentility in idleness, confined to females alone: we find it widely and deeply cherished by society at large. Hence we see that the aristocratic titles of “lady” and “gentleman” are by common consent thought to be applicable only to those who hold it beneath their fancied dignity to toil with their hands. The farmer who guides his own plough, and the mechanic who still plies his tools, are thus considered as belonging to a lower caste than the “gentleman” farmer who lives solely upon the toil of his dependant[sic] labourers, or the retired mechanic who has thrown aside his implements, and employs the capital amassed by their use in extensive speculations in lands or stocks. (p25-26)

Dress as a Fine Art, by Mrs. Mary Philadelphia Merrifield (Boston: 1854)

We violate the laws of nature when we seek to repair the ravages of time on our complexions by paint, when we substitute false hair for that which age has thinned or blanched, or conceal the change by dyeing our own gray hair; when we pad our dress to conceal that one shoulder is larger than the other. To do either is not only in bad taste, but is a positive breach of sincerity. It is bad taste, because the means we have resorted to are contrary to the laws of nature. The application of paint to the skin produces an effect so different from the bloom of youth, that it can only deceive an unpracticed eye. It is the same with hair: there is such a want of harmony between false hair and the face which it surrounds, especially when that face bears the marks of age, and the color of the hair denotes youth, that the effect is unpleasing in the extreme. Deception of this kind, therefore, does not answer the end which it had in view; it deceives nobody but the unfortunate perpetrator of would-be deceit. It is about as senseless a proceeding as that of the goose in the story, who, when pursued by the fox, thrust her head into a hedge, and thought that, because she could no longer see the fox, the fox could not see her. But in a moral point of view it is worse than silly; it is adopted with a view to deceive; it is acting a lie to all intents and purposes, and it ought to be held in the same kind of detestation as falsehood with the tongue. Zimmerman has an aphorism which is applicable to this case – “Those who conceal their age do not conceal their folly.” (p12-13)

The immediate objects of dress are twofold – namely, decency and warmth; but so many minor considerations are suffered to influence us in choosing our habiliments, that these primary objects are too frequently kept out of sight. Dress should be not only adapted to the climate, it should be also light in weight, should yield to the movements of the body, and should be easily put on or removed. It should also be adapted to the station in society, and to the age, of the individual. These are the essential conditions, yet in practice how frequently are they overlooked; in fact, how seldom are they observed! Next in importance are general elegance of form, harmony in the arrangement and selection of the colors, and special adaptation in form and color to the person of the individual. To these objects we purpose directing the attention of the reader. (p16)

Had the Bloomer costume, which has obtained so much notoriety, been introduced by a tall and graceful scion of the aristocracy, either of rank or talent, instead of being at first adopted by the middle ranks, it might have met with better success. We have seen that Jenny Lind could introduce a new fashion of wearing the hair, and a new form of hat or bonnet, and Mme. Sontag a cap which bears her name. But it was against all precedent to admit and follow a fashion, let its merits be every so great, that emanated from the stronghold of democracy. We are content to adopt the greatest absurdities in dress when they are brought from Paris, or recommendation by a French name; but American fashions have no chance of success in aristocratic England. It is beginning at the wrong end.