"I believe I have met her once or twice at Assemblies."
"Now, I wonder whether you could pick her out from this multitude of masks."
Charles at once perceived the subject of the question.
"She is standing over there by the second pillar and talking to a mask in porcel--no, in lacker. That's strange."
"What is strange?" inquired Mr. Ripple mildly.
"Nothing--a lantern effect," Charles explained.
Surely he could not be mistaken in those taper fingers. Moreover, they were familiar to him. Where could he have seen them?
"So that is Miss Courteen," said the Beau, looking at her very intently. "Yes, now that you have pointed her out, I certainly seem to recognize her. Who is her Vis à Vis?"
"That I do not know," said Charles rather gloomily.
"Then, pray, be so good-natured as to make an attempt to ascertain and you'll oblige me monstrously. Or stay--perhaps I had better inquire myself."
Mr. Ripple, observing that Mr. Lovely looked somewhat melancholy, patted him on the shoulder.
"Don't look so full of disapprobation, Charles. Inquisitiveness, with ordinary men and women, is a breach of good manners: with kings, it is a condescension. Dear me! how time runs!" the Beau continued, tripping from an epigram to a truism. "I will leave you to superintend the Country Dances. Let them be as Oriental as possible, I beg."
With this admonition the Great little Man threaded his way through the Exquisite Mob.
Charles d----d the country dances very devoutly. He was not enjoying the evening at all, and wished he were sitting in the cosy firelight of the _Blue Boar_, lulled by the whispers of playing cards, shuffled and dealt. Where could he raise that two hundred pounds he owed Vernon? Vernon--by G...! now he recognized those taper fingers. Vernon! they belonged to Vernon, he could swear to them. Too often had he watched their delicate harvesting of his guineas. He began to fret more than ever. Suddenly he noticed that everybody was looking in his direction, and became aware that time was indeed running and the moment for the Country Dances had arrived.
Meanwhile Mr. Ripple searched in vain for Phyllida and a Vis à Vis in brown and gold.
The Country Dances of these powderpuff Orientals were so truly inappropriate to the celebration that they almost succeeded in convincing by sheer want of fitness. Picture to yourselves two hundred blue and golden marionettes jigging to _Sir Roger de Coverley_ or bobbing to _Come Lasses and Lads_. There was Merry England underneath this hugger mugger of yellow masks, yet the sustained motion was decidedly Eastern. Hands across, back to back, right hand, left hand--each change of attitude was marked by a crashing gong; and he who sounded this barbarick instrument was Mr. Charles Lovely. He stood upon a tripod of ebony quite high enough for a hero of comedy, as I am sure you will admit.