The great day so impatiently expected at length arrived.
For six weeks the good people of Wild Oats had been in a
fever of excitement. Nothing more was heard of ministers,
senators, generals, magistrates, princesses, duchesses, and
citizens; for twenty leagues round, clowns, harlequins,
punchinellos, gipsies, Columbines, and Follies alone were
to be seen. Politics were silenced, or, rather, the nation
was divided into two great parties—the conservatives that
went to the ball, and the opposition that stayed at home.
If the official gazette is to be believed, the festival out¬
shone in splendor all others past and to come. The ball
was held in the midst of the gardens, in a rotunda magnif¬
icently decorated. A winding walk, shaded by elms and
dimly lighted by alabaster lamps, led to a hall resplendent
with gold, verdure, flowers, and light. An orchestra, half
concealed in the foliage, breathed forth music, by turns
plaintive and gay. Add to this the richness of the costumes,
the brilliancy of the diamonds, the piquancy of the masks,
and the charm of intrigue, and you will see that 1t would
have needed the soul of an ancient Stoic to resist the intox1¬