Miss Ayr of Virginia And Other Stories

When Miss Ayr of Virginia came down to take her place on the coach for the races, in company with her cousins, the Miss Ayrs of New York, there was a discrepancy between the former and the latter which could scarcely have failed to attract attention. It could not be denied that the advantage was on the side of the last-named ladies, though Miss Ayr of Virginia was exquisite, and they were plain.
Compared with such costumes as they wore, however, such chic, such height, such distinguished bearing, what was mere beauty? The little country girl, with her village-made costume, just saved from absolute dowdiness by a few touches from her cousins’ maid (which she had inwardly resented), was certainly a fish out of water in that jaunty party; and in her wretched little soul she felt it.
Moreover, her dress was not only countrified, it was unbecoming. Its style of construction quite disguised her slight and charming figure, and her hat was as complete a handicap for a beautiful face as could well have been invented.
She did not realize this, not having as yet entirely lost her buoyant belief in herself, which was one result of her being an only child and the spoiled darling of her father, besides being the recognized belle of her county. What she did realize, however, was that these fashionable cousins of hers found her a nuisance, and that the invitation which she had received from their father would never have come from themselves.
The Miss Ayrs of New York were partly right in what they said of their cousin, namely, that she had been badly brought up. This fact might possibly have been overlooked on the score of her having lost her mother in childhood, but for the other fact, that the Miss Ayrs of New York were in the same case, and yet felt proudly conscious that they could challenge the world as to their unimpeachable good form. There was one important difference between the two families, however. The Ayrs of New York were rich, while the Ayrs of Virginia were poor. The war, which had caused the impoverishment of the latter branch of the family was not yet so far back in the past but that days of opulence and ease could yet be remembered, even by this sole representative in the present generation, Miss Carter Ayr, who, now for the first time emerged from the safety and seclusion of her beloved South, was come to taste the delights of a season in New York.
The two brothers, who were the respective heads of the families, had both been left widowers, and neither of them had re-married; but John Ayr of New York had been able to give his daughters the very best that money could do for them, in the way of governesses and chaperonage and foreign travel, while Henry Ayr of Virginia had had to content himself with the ministrations of a gentle, old-maid cousin, who had been governess and chaperon in one, and had let Carter grow up much as she chose—a fact which had not in the least interfered with her father’s complete satisfaction with her.