Chapter XI. THE PERSUASION OF FASHION: FEELING GUARDS O’ER ITS OWN
Carrie was an apt student of fortune’s ways—of fortune’s superficialities. Seeing a thing, she would immediately set to inquiring how she would look, properly related to it. Be it known that this is not fine feeling, it is not wisdom. The greatest minds are not so afflicted; and on the contrary, the lowest order of mind is not so disturbed. Fine clothes to her were a vast persuasion; they spoke tenderly and Jesuitically for themselves. When she came within earshot of their pleading, desire in her bent a willing ear. The voice of the so-called inanimate! Who shall translate for us the language of the stones?
“My dear,” said the lace collar she secured from Partridge’s, “I fit you beautifully; don’t give me up.”
“Ah, such
