Others bear bonnet boxes from which peep stylish toques and
bewitching hoods. Some, representing evidently wholesale houses,
stagger under silks and satins in the piece. Cupids are there from
the shoemakers with the daintiest of bottines. Stockings, garters,
and even less mentionable articles, are not forgotten. Caskets,
mirrors, twelve-buttoned gloves, scent-bottles and handkerchiefs,
hair-pins, and the gayest of parasols, has the God of Love piled
into the arms of his messengers. Really a most practical, up-to-
date God of Love, moving with the times! One feels that the modern
Temple of Love must be a sort of Swan and Edgar's; the god himself a
kind of celestial shop-walker; while his mother, Venus, no doubt
superintends the costume department. Quite an Olympian Whiteley,
this latter-day Eros; he has forgotten nothing, for, at the back of
the picture, I notice one Cupid carrying a rather fat heart at the
end of a string.
You, Cinderella, could give good counsel to that sleeping child.
You would say to her--"Awake from such dreams. The contents of a
pawnbroker's store-room will not bring you happiness. Dream of love
if you will; that is a wise dream, even if it remain ever a dream.
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