He would not have out his carriage; he took a hansom to the opera house. On entering, he stood amazed! There had been a drawing-room that day, and the ladies who were alighting from their carriages and sailing and sweeping through the entrance-hall and up the staircase were in all the bravery of silk, satin, and velvet, and literally ablaze with jewels. The heated air was scented with the perfumes they used, and with the odour of the Court bouquets they carried. The scene of excessive luxury was foreign to the severe simplicity of Dr. Paull’s hard-working life.
“I suppose all this is good for trade,” he thought, as he made his way through the glittering throng to box 9, “but it seems a queer way for mortals to spend their time.”
He was ushered into the box just as the final bars of the National Anthem were being played, for it was a semi-State performance in honour of a foreign potentate. Lady Forwood, a fair young dame with a bright face, was standing in front of the box. She turned to welcome him.
“It is very good, indeed, of you to come,” she said, as she warmly shook hands. “Don’t say, No! David and I flatter ourselves we understand you pretty well. I know that nothing but a sense of duty brings you here. However, now that you are here, you may as well have a good look at it all. Take that chair. David is at the House. He may look in, but not till late; there is some important debate on to-night. Now, tell me, it is a fine sight, isn’t it?”
“It certainly is,” said Hugh.
The orchestra had struck up the spirited introduction to the new opera, and the unaccustomed sounds of bright music insensibly raised his spirits. The coup-d’œil of the gigantic horseshoe of tiers of crimson-curtained boxes filled with ladies in brilliant attire, white and the palest tints predominating, was magnificent.
“I never imagined women could look so like flowers,” said he, honestly.
“I thought you would think better of us when you knew a little more about us!” laughed Lady Forwood, who was scanning the house through her lorgnettes. “There! Mercedes has just come in! How lovely she looks! What a magnificent dress! I suppose she was at the drawing-room. I went last time, so I was not there to-day.”
“Where?” said Hugh, drawing back a little, and feeling like a conspirator.
“Not in the chandelier! and not exactly in the pit,” said Lady Forwood, laughingly. “Don’t be shocked at me! I positively can’t help teasing people. Look at the third from the royal box. There, she is just settling herself, and throwing off her mantilla—the lady in white.”