A most attractive figure was Night or Luna. The coloring would have suited Cora—the black hair and the silvery trimmings of the robe to represent the moon but it was not like Cora to seek the dark spots of the garden that her moonbeams might be the brighter. The boys had a certain fancy for moonlight—hand made.
"I'll wager you are Bess," whispered a very handsome Adonis in a real Greek costume—all but the pedestal.
"Yes," answered the girl with a titter. "As you please—but, I pray you, fair sir, am I not a good milkmaid?"
"The best ever," replied Adonis. "Pray let us stroll in yonder meadow."
Slipping his hand into the bare arm of the milkmaid, Adonis drew the figure down a pith toward the small lake that was on one edge of the Kimball property.
"Now I have some one to talk to," he declared with evident satisfaction.
"Oh, is that all?" replied the maid in some contempt "I can't see just why I should fill in that way," and she arose from her seat at the water's edge. "Besides," she added, "I hate Greeks. They are so vain!" and with this she hurried after a girl in a nun's costume, who was walking along the path to the pavilion.
"Well!" exclaimed the disappointed youth, "that was hard luck. And just as I was going to say something nice, too. However, it'll keep, I suppose," and he followed the two figures—the nun and the milkmaid—toward the dancing platform.
A veritable Rosebud was bowing on the porch to the row of unmasked patronesses, several ladies of Mrs. Kimball's set, who had volunteered to help her receive.
The Rosebud wore a plaited garb of rose pink, with velvet petals about her waist, and green velvet leaves about her throat. The costume was so beautiful, and the figure so graceful, to say nothing of the natural rose perfume it exhaled, that every one stopped to admire.