I was returning with an engagement of thirty shillings a week: I had four weeks' pay in my pocket: Fortune once more smiled upon me: I ran in and kissed my wife with an alacrity and a cheerfulness which rejoiced her as much as it astonished her. I threw down the money. 'Take it, my dear,' I said. 'There is more to come. We are saved again. Oh! Alice—we are saved—and by the same hand as before.'
'I have heard of Madame Vallance,' said Tom, presently. 'She comes from no one knows where: she keeps herself secluded: at the Assemblies she always wears a mask: the people say she is generous: some think she is rich: others that the expense of the place must break her.'
'I hope she is another Crœsus,' I said. 'I hope that the River of Pactolus will flow into her lap. I hope she will inherit the mines of Golgonda. I hope she will live a thousand years and marry a Prince. And we will drink her health in a bowl of punch this very night.'
CHAPTER III
THE MASQUERADE
I commenced my duties in the music gallery on one of the nights devoted to the amusement called the Masquerade. It was an amusement new to me and to all except those who can afford to spend five guineas, besides the purchase of a dress, on the pleasure of a single night. I understand the Masquerade has taken a great hold upon the fashionable world and upon those who have money to spend and are eager for the excitement of a new pleasure. 'Give—give' is the cry of those who live, day by day, for the pleasure of the moment.
Truly in a Masquerade there is everything; the novelty or the beauty of the disguise: the music: the dancing: the revelry after supper: the gambling: the pursuit of beauty in disguise—it is wonderful to reflect, in the quiet corner of the earth in which I write, that, across the Atlantic, in London City, there are thousands who are never happy save when they are crowded together, seeking such excitement as is afforded by the masquerade, the assembly, the promenade and the pleasure garden. Here we have no such excitements and we want none: life for us flows in a tranquil stream: for them it flows away in waterfalls and cataracts, leaping to the sea.
Madame managed her masquerades as she did everything, with the greatest care: she arranged everything: the selection of the music: the decorations: the supper: even the chalking of the floor. The doors were thrown open at eleven. Long before that hour the Square was filled with people, some were come to see the fashionable throng arrive—the fine dresses of the ladies and the masquerading of the men. Some were come to pick the pockets of the others. There was no confusion: the hackney coaches and the chairs were directed by Madame's servants, who stood outside, to arrive by one road and to depart by another. Thus, one after the other, without quarrelling or fighting, drove to the doors, deposited their company and departed. The same order was observed in the departure.
For my own part, as there was nothing to do before eleven, I amused myself by going round and seeing the rooms all lit up with candles in sconces or by candelabra and painted with flowers and fruit and Cupids even to the ceiling, and hung with costly curtains. It is a large and spacious house, of commanding appearance, built by an Earl of Carlisle. There is a grand staircase, broad and stately: when a well-dressed Company are going up and down it looks like the staircase of a Palace: on the landing I found flowers in pots and bushes in tubs which gave the place a rural appearance and so might lead the thoughts of the visitor insensibly into the country. There are a great many rooms in the original House which has been very handsomely increased by the addition of two large chambers, one above the other, built out at the back, over part of the garden. One of these new rooms was the Ball Room which I have already mentioned. The other room below it, equally large but not so high, was used as the supper-room. It had its walls painted with dancing Satyrs and Fauns: gilded pilasters, raised an inch or so, relieved the flatness of the wall. This was the supper-room: for the moment it had nothing in it but long narrow tables arranged down the room in rows: the servants were already beginning to spread upon them the napery and lay the knives and forks for supper.