“I wish you love and luck,” she said.
“Luck?” repeated Patricia. “My dear Mamie, you are thinking of the St. Leger. We don’t intend to run a race.”
“Luck” was the name of Lady Chesterwood’s one and only racer. The little widow smiled.
“Life is a race, and you need plenty of luck to help you steer clear of the ditches,” she replied. “However, let me satisfy your fastidious ear by terming it ‘Providence.’ Mr. Montella, you haven’t asked me for a dance.”
Lionel apologised, and took possession of her card. Then he glanced at her costume.
“You are an Italian lady?” he queried, in doubt.
“I am Dante’s Beatrice; rather an assumption, isn’t it! But I am so tired of the conventional fancy-dress people. Besides, my mask will conceal my face until midnight. What made you two choose to represent the Stuarts?”
“A lack of originality on my part, I think,” Patricia replied. “The ‘bonnie prince’ is one of my pet heroes, so I suggested him for Lionel, and Mary Queen of Scots seemed to follow suit. By the way, Mamie, what sort of people have you here?”
“All sorts and conditions. Authors, actors, musicians, artists, a sprinkling of politicians, and many mere society people. They are all thoroughly respectable, I assure you, my dear, and as you won’t be introduced, it doesn’t matter if you should happen to dance with someone of whom, ordinarily, your chaperon would not approve. Here, Equality is the watchword. In the matter of this masked ball, at least, I am a law unto myself.”
She bowed and swept away on the arm of a chivalrous knight. The musicians struck up the spirited tune of a new dance which had recently been invented, and the lovers, preferring to witness it rather than to take part, mounted to the gallery in order to view the mise en scène. The ball-room was decorated in white and gold, the clusters of electric light arranged to form huge daffodils hanging at measured intervals from the painted ceiling. The musicians were almost hidden by a bank of flowers, consisting principally of orchids and the rarest ferns; a similar bank adorned the other end of the room. The motley dresses of the guests—some attractive, some merely grotesque—lent a brilliancy which was somewhat bizarre in its effect. To the onlookers, the combination of personalities was curious—perhaps not without significance to some who were there.