“...the ladies of Cranford always dressed with chaste elegance and propriety...”
Elizabeth Gaskell
Ah! Here we go again. I can already surmise that the young lady dressed so appropriately to receive visitors will soon be receiving an especially important caller. She sits primly on my one side, waiting impatiently for him to arrive. Her lovely face, indeed her whole demeanor, is full of youthful anticipation. The love she feels fairly beams like the brightest sunlight around her. She is only eighteen, but just the right age for matrimony to a suitable man.
The butler shows her love into the parlor. He is a handsome man, ten years older than she and suitably dressed for courting. Yet despite the age difference it is obvious her devotion is returned. As with her, he is of upper class breeding, yet he has worked hard to establish himself separate from his family's wealth so that he could be a truly worthy suitor in her family's eyes (no mean fete given their protectiveness). As a result, he enjoys an excellent reputation as the owner of a local lumber company, with some of the wood having been used to build his fine, suitably located Queen Anne-style home in anticipation of taking a bride and raising a family.
Her mother, a surprisingly youthful woman in her late thirties, is sitting nearby knitting industriously. She greets him pleasantly enough but it is understood that she is there as a chaperon. Nothing must be allowed to besmirch her only daughter's chaste reputation.
Approaching the young woman, he accepts her gloved hand in his and places a light kiss on her delicate fingers. He gives the appearance of propriety, but I know there is little sense of propriety in either of them. All of the passion of their love is reflected in their eyes yet only hinted at in their smiles. With a secret wink, he gives her fingers a light squeeze, which she returns as a blush blossoms becomingly in her cheeks, before he takes his seat on my opposing end.
And there they spend the afternoon, taking tea and enjoying each others company. They are frustrated by the curvature of my design, which keeps their bodies carefully separated and forces them to turn their heads so they can meet one anothers eyes. That is my sole purpose: to allow couples to spend time in close proximity without any easy chance of impropriety. Her mother looks on, keeping a hawk-like eye on the goings on, yet she is secretly amused. She was once a young debutante forced to accept suitors in a courting settee just like me. She has known the desire they feel to be closer, to hold and be held, and to share loving, passionate kisses. She also knows how easily such passion could overcome their sense of propriety. But even though she and her husband approve of the match, their daughter must remain virginal until their wedding night.
So, though I am finely made and otherwise comfortable to sit on, my curving design serves a distinct and important purpose. I am an integral part of courtship. Maintaining strict propriety is my sole duty. But I secretly enjoy knowing that in doing my job, by keeping them so close and yet so far from each other, I help fan the passionate flames of their love.
c. 2025
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Reviewed by Ronald Hull
11/11/2025
An interesting convention using a settee, or is it a loveseat? As the observer of the very polite encounter of a formal courtship according to Victorian rules of behavior.
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