Mistress Penwick | Page 9

thou wilt not have long to wait. I saw his wicked young eyes--too
young for so old a man, as it appeared--directing enamoured darts upon
thee."

"But art thou not afraid of so oath-beladen tongue? He is dreadfully
profane!"
"He has already seen his peril and will drop his oaths like jetsam and
wilt come to thee with flotsamy oglings and tender nothings and bow
and smirk; and thou wilt find thyself an old man's sweetheart."
"Janet, can we not find some point of observation where we may look
upon the maskers unseen?"
"Thou art speaking my own mind. I will look about and find some
seclusion that thou mayest look and sate thine eyes upon Royalty; and
thou wilt gaze and gaze and make mental annotations, and to-morrow
thou wilt begin to preen thy feathers preparatory to flying forth; but
first thou must lie down and sleep three full hours, 'tis then the ball will
be at its height, and thou wilt feel refreshed and ready to amuse me
with thy observations. 'Twill be the grandest sight for thee. I have seen
many but none so gorgeous as this is to be."
Janet went upon a tour of exploration and finding what she desired in
the way of a quiet corner returned for Katherine. They passed down
flights of steps, through halls, and came to a large corridor that opened
upon a gallery which encircled the ballroom, save where it was cleft by
a great stairway. As they stood looking over the railing, 'twas like
looking down upon an immense concave opal, peopled by the
gorgeously apparelled. Myriad tints seeming to assimulate and focus
wherever the eyes rested. Gilt bewreathed pillars, mouldings,
shimmering satin, lights, jewels, flowers, ceiling, gallery and parquetry
appeared like a homogeneous mass of opal. Mistress Katherine could
not speak, her perturbed spirit was silent, she held to Janet and the
curtain that hung at the arch, and breathed in the perfume.
"Canst see thy lord yonder?"
"Nay, I see all collectively, but nothing individually; my eyes fail to
separate this from that."
"Perhaps if thou couldst whip them to his ugly frame, 'twould prove an

antidote."
"'Twill come in time,--I can now discern that 'tis the folk that art
moving and not the flowers and lights. I see a red figure seeming to
hurry among the dancers, looking this way and that, peering and
peeping; he has lost something."
"'Tis more probable he is looking for what he has found; 'tis thy
stairway-beau with the rose; he has retrieved it and is hot upon the
chase again. He is looking for thee.--'Tis vain my lord-devil, thou hadst
better use the time to swathe thy feet in asbestos-flax."
The music of the passacaglia floated up and Katherine drank in its
minor sweetness. Presently the dance changed into the chaconne with
its prominent bass theme, again turning to the poetic and stately
sarabande.
"Now I do see the Scot; he is by far the most homely figure anywhere,
and yet, he is graceful, and it must be a very great beauty with him.
How could the master of so great a house look so?" The music changed
into a sprightly gavotte, Katherine's ears fairly tingled with the
confusion of sound. She lay her head upon Janet's bosom as if drunk
with the surfeit of music.
"'Tis more than I could have dreamed. Didst ever see anything so
beautiful before? It seems years ago since we were within convent
walls!"
"'Twill bring thy seeming nearer if thy lord proposes a speedy return to
the cloister."
"Nay, I would not go."
"Ah, then, enjoy the present and think of moments and not cycles. Here
thou shalt sit on this low divan, behind this tripod of roses; there, thou
canst hear what they whisper when the music ceases." They sat
ensconced in flowers and drapings of satin brocade, looking down upon
splendidly and wonderfully dressed princes and dukes, lords and counts,

with their ladies dancing the gavotte. There was the perfection of
beauty and stateliness and romance. The few unmasked faces were
smiling and bright with powder and rouge; dainty hands flourished fans;
and there was the low click of high heels upon the parquetry. Jewels
flashed and brocades gleamed; a shimmering accompaniment
completing the symmetry of the brilliant dance. It was not long before
Janet called her companion's attention to the lord of the castle. He was
dancing now with a very beautiful woman, even more so than the one
before.
"He steps lightly, being so bandied. Now I think on it, 'twere possible
his legs were cushioned thus to hide a senile thinness! 'Tis human
nature when badgered by excess of limit to flounder into limitless
excess. Look upon the Burgomaster at thy feet with a surfeit of good
round legs,