"If people suspect her of improper intimacy with McIntyre, why do they admit her to their houses?" asked Don Pedro.
"Well, you see, many of the merchants and business men have financial dealings with McIntyre, and they do not dare to offend him. As an illustration of his power, I will relate an incident that occurred recently. The wife of a well-known merchant was about to give a large party, and, in making out her list of invitations, she purposely left out the name of Mrs. Kerr. Her husband, on going to the bank to obtain the renewal of a note, found McIntyre as surly and savage as a bear, and the renewal was refused. As he had never before had any difficulty in obtaining such an accommodation when hard pressed for money, he could not account for the change in McIntyre's conduct; but when his wife informed him of her action the day previous in withholding an invitation from Mrs. Kerr, he understood it all. His affairs were in such a condition that he could not afford to quarrel with McIntyre, and so he insisted that an invitation be sent to Mrs. Kerr, in spite of his wife's assertion that Mrs. Kerr was an improper character. He was willing to admit that fact, but he preferred to submit to her presence rather than to be seriously crippled in business. An invitation was therefore sent in such a way as to make the delay in its delivery appear accidental, and in a few days Mr. McIntyre was willing to renew the merchant's note."
"Well, she certainly does carry things with a high hand," replied Don Pedro, smiling. "I wonder how she would have retaliated upon me if I had struck her name off my list to-night? However, it is not my business to question her character, and if my wife is satisfied to receive her, I shall not interfere."
As the Don finished speaking, the music sounded the preliminary notes of a quadrille, and he hastened to find a partner. Among the guests were Mr. and Mrs. Arlington, whose minds were of such opposite characters as to keep them continually quarreling. He was a wealthy banker of austere manners and Puritanic tastes, while she was a butterfly of fashion, fit only to be petted, kissed, and caressed. She was all gayety and life; he, all piety and gloom. Her pleasures he considered sinful, while his recreations were to her the most painfully melancholy observances that could be devised. While he believed that she was a child of wrath, a creature of the world, the flesh, and the devil, she was equally satisfied that he was on the highway to fanaticism and hypocrisy. Under these circumstances, it was not unnatural that she should seek her friends among those who mingled in fashionable society, nor that her husband should consider it necessary to follow her into the gay world in order to keep a watch upon her. Her most attentive cavalier was a young bachelor named Harry Bertram, who seemed infatuated with her. Indeed, their preference for each other's society was so marked that the tongue of scandal had already begun to wag, although no overt act could be cited against them. The Don, on leaving Lesparre, chanced to meet Mrs. Arlington, and she readily accorded him the pleasure of dancing with her. In the same set were Daniel McCarthy and Donna Lucia, Charles Sylvanus and Madame Sevier, and Mr. Mather and Mrs. Simon. In the adjoining set were Mr. Benson and Miss Jennie Humphrey, Alexander McIntyre and Mrs. Kerr, Harry Bertram and Mrs. Sanders, and Judge Robert Morgan and Mrs. Middleton.
Judge Morgan was a remarkable-looking person at any time, but his appearance was especially noticeable in a dancing-set, the incongruity of his presence in such a scene being irresistibly comical. He was about fifty years of age, but his face was smooth and unwrinkled; though he was of the medium height, his great size gave him the look of a short man, which effect was partly increased by his long arms. He was very broad and fat, his stomach projecting to an absurd degree. At the same time he stood very erect, so that a profile view gave him a general resemblance to a loggerhead turtle set on end. His eyes were small and treacherous, his cheeks were puffy and flabby, his mouth was large and sensual. His hair and whiskers were brown and fine, but they always seemed unkempt. He wore closely-fitting black clothes, and he was fond of displaying an unusual amount of jewelry. He had obtained the office of judge of the criminal court by currying favor with the very classes most likely to be brought before him for trial, and his judicial ermine was not considered free from the foulest stains. His private life was, in many respects, a counterpart of his official conduct; though married to an agreeable woman, he was a notorious libertine and profligate. Still, he held his position in society, and was admitted to the acquaintance of the most reputable people in the city; hence, he frequently appeared at balls and dancing-parties, where he always tried to act like a light and graceful youth.
The Judge's downfall.
On this occasion he was especially anxious to display his manly form in the same set with the Donna, but being disappointed in this, he chose the set next to hers, and acted like a playful hippopotamus. While backing rapidly, in an attempt to balance to his partner, he came in contact with Mrs. Simon of the next set, and, tripping on her dress, he fell violently upon her. Her partner, Mr. Mather, tried to catch her as she also fell, but the ponderous form of the Judge came upon them both with crushing effect, and all three were brought to the floor at once. Mr. Mather and Mrs. Simon were quickly on their feet again, flushed with mortification but unhurt. But it was no such easy matter for the corpulent Judge to raise himself erect; he lay on his back a moment groaning, and it was thought that he might be seriously injured, as his fall had jarred the whole house. Several gentlemen carefully lifted him upright, and the ladies gathered about to condole with him, when it was suddenly discovered that, if the Judge's person had not suffered, his clothing had. His tight dress coat was split several inches down the back, while a hasty glimpse behind his coat-tails satisfied the spectators that his pants were in an even worse condition than his coat. It may be imagined that the situation caused some merriment, in spite of the efforts of the more well-bred guests to preserve their gravity; but when the Judge, having regained his feet, vociferated in great wrath: "You are a pack of monkeys. I don't see anything to laugh at," there was a universal burst of laughter which could not be repressed. This so enraged him that it was difficult to make him understand his absurd position, but at length Don Pedro and Monsieur Lesparre induced him to go to the dressing-room for repairs. As there was no coat in the house large enough for him, the Don was at his wits' end to make him sufficiently presentable to enable him to return to the drawing-room; but at length the Judge was arrayed in one of the Don's gorgeous dressing-gowns, which was large enough to hide most of the effects of the fall. He soon returned to the lower rooms dressed in the most remarkable costume ever worn at a full-dress party in Gloster.
With the exception of this accident, the evening passed off with the most perfect success, and the unanimous verdict was that there had never been a more thoroughly enjoyable entertainment given in the city. During the evening, Madame Sevier informed Donna Lucia of her willingness to take charge of the Morito establishment, and agreed to begin her reign the next day. Donna Lucia was delighted at this news, and willingly accepted all the conditions, though she insisted for some time on giving Madame Sevier a liberal salary. Finding that Madame Sevier was resolute in her refusal to receive pay, the Donna informed her friends that she had invited Madame Sevier to live with her, and that the Madame had kindly agreed to assist her in entertaining her numerous guests.
It was not until nearly daybreak that the more indefatigable revelers became weary of dancing and flirting, so that the Donna was quite exhausted when the last guest had departed. Madame Sevier remained to the end, as she intended occupying her room in the Morito mansion at once, instead of returning to her boarding-place. Donna Lucia left orders that she was not to be disturbed until five o'clock in the afternoon, but Madame Sevier decided to get up at twelve o'clock, in order to superintend the work of clearing away the decorations and débris of the ball. The Don had invited Monsieur Lesparre to dine with him at six o'clock, and so it was arranged that they should all meet at that hour.