Brühl rang the bell; a lackey promptly attended.
'I must be in the castle in half-an-hour: my post-chaise!'
'It is ready.'
'Domino, masque?'
'Everything is ready,' and having said this the lackey opened the door and conducted Brühl to a large dressing-room.
Brühl's dressing-room was already considered one of the sights of the capital. Round it were large wardrobes of carved oak; between two windows stood a table and on it a large mirror in a china frame composed of cupids and flowers. Round the table, winter and summer, there were always a profusion of roses and lilies of the valley. And on the table were disposed such an array of toilet articles as might have belonged to a woman. The wardrobes contained dresses with shoes, swords, hats, and watches to match each, for the fashion demanded that everything should be in harmony.
For that evening the most important detail was the domino and not the dress. In a special wardrobe was everything necessary for fancy balls. Brühl was not quite decided in his choice of a dress. It was a very important matter, for the King was fond of difficulty in recognising his guests; and perchance Brühl did not wish to be recognised at all.
The lackey, walking after him with a candelabra, waited for the order.
'Where is that dress of a Venetian noble?' asked Brühl turning to the lackey.
The servant ran to a wardrobe standing in a corner and handed him the dress.