The Ball.

           ItwasinthewarmestdaysofJuly,wheninduecourseoftimetheSaturdayarriveduponwhichtheballwastotakeplaceatM.deMorcerf’s.Itwasteno’clockatnight;thebranchesofthegreattreesinthegardenofthecount’shousestoodoutboldlyagainsttheazurecanopyofheaven,whichwasstuddedwithgoldenstars,butwherethelastfleetingcloudsofavanishingstormyetlingered.Fromtheapartmentsontheground-floormightbeheardthesoundofmusic,withthewhirlofthewaltzandgalop,whilebrilliantstreamsoflightshonethroughtheopeningsoftheVenetianblinds.Atthismomentthegardenwasonlyoccupiedbyabouttenservants,whohadjustreceivedordersfromtheirmistresstopreparethesupper,theserenityoftheweathercontinuingtoincrease.Untilnow,ithadbeenundecidedwhetherthesuppershouldtakeplaceinthedining-room,orunderalongtenterectedonthelawn,butthebeautifulbluesky,studdedwithstars,hadsettledthequestioninfavorofthelawn.Thegardenswereilluminatedwithcoloredlanterns,accordingtotheItaliancustom,and,asisusualincountrieswheretheluxuriesofthetabletherarestofallluxuriesintheircompleteformarewellunderstood,thesupper-tablewasloadedwithwax-lightsandflowers.

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Roboto Lora
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Страница 1211 из 1932