Hundreds presented themselves for
admission to the fairy-like scene, and it was allowed by all to be a
perfect success, a gem of the first water of entertainments, and such,
as many of the guests had seldom witnessed. Her ladyship, elegantly
attired, and flushed with pride and pleasure at the triumph she was
achieving moved gracefully about from one room to another attending to
the comfort and convenience of her visitors. In passing along one of the
improvised conservatories, the figure of a cavalry officer attracted
her attention. His features were screened from her view by the leaves of
a magnificent orange tree, but there was something in his general
outline, as he stood leaning indolently against the trellis work
chatting with a drawl, real or affected, to a little lady seated, or
rather reclining on a low ottoman close by, something that caused her to
start as if the gallant officer was not altogether unknown to her, but
her memory would not at the moment serve her, yet a feeling of mistrust,
a sort of almost indescribable sensation of disquietude came over her as
she listened to the polite nothings that issued from his lips; but
fearing to attract observation she quietly withdrew, and entering the
upper end of the ball room summoned her chobdah and pointing out the
figures said, "When that gentleman leaves his present position, tell him
that Lady Chutny desires to speak with him." The native made his sallam
and withdrew.
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