Chapter XV: Lady Selina’s Gossiping Letter

Early in the following week was the day fixed for the masquerade ball, and a number of guests arrived at an early hour. The Count had gone out early in the morning, and the Countess, not being very well, and wishing to repose herself for the evening’s gaiety, sent down word to beg they would excuse her from appearing till the dinner hour.

So the guests strolled into the gardens and amused themselves very well, but some of the ladies held rather aloof from Lady Selina Bugginfield and Mrs. Dashworth, who, as they had been visitors for some time at the Castle, thought it right to patronize the new-comers. But finding it would not do, they went up and sulked in their own rooms, and wrote bitterly gossiping letters to their dear friends.

“This won’t last long,” wrote Lady Selina to her sister that afternoon. “How the husband can be so blind, we none of us can imagine. They go and smoke in an old orangery every day; they have been seen there, and even heard, by some of the servants; in fact, it is well known, and I shan’t be surprised if they elope soon.

“Her adorer is a spendthrift Neapolitan, handsome, certainly, but”--but he remained insensible to my charms, was the parenthesis of her mental bitterness. “Her character is quite gone, if she ever had any, so she will not be much worse after she has left her husband, and with such a spendthrift it scarcely seems worth while; but she has her own fortune, and that _I_ think is the great attraction for him--in fact, I’m sure of it. Poor thing! she will find it out some day.

“The Duke and Duchess of Dromoland, and Lady E. G----, and the great Mrs. de V---- are downstairs. They were obliged to come early to get their hair dressed by Isidore, who came from Paris to dress Cunigunda’s.

“The Duke is very pleasant and nice, and so is Lord D----, but the Duchess and Mrs. de V---- (who I am sure has no character to lose) are disposed to be impertinent to me, and so I came upstairs and took no further notice of them. How insufferably vulgar these great people often are!

“My dress is to be that of a pilgrim from Capo Bosso. I saw one the last time I was in Rome in the Holy Week, and Princess Doria washed her feet. It is the prettiest dress in the world: a blue jacket and cap and very short petticoats, and, as Alfred says, will suit my well-turned ankles and perfect legs. We shall wear masques and dominoes till supper-time, after which there will be a grand polonaise all over the curious old house, and then those who like will remove their masques.

“It will certainly be great fun, and the restored old chapel or banqueting-hall is splendid, where the dancing will be. Such a floor!--all inlaid with flowers and fruit in marqueterie work, like the beautiful old cabinet at D----. But I must dress now, and will finish this to-morrow, and give you some account of the fête, if I am not too tired.

“The party is to break up the following day, which I shall be sorry for. They have an excellent cook, and a very pleasant set of men. There is no drawback but the ghost, of which I told you in my last letter, which frightened all the servants, and then they gave warning. I heard it, too, quite plain, walking round my bed. I can’t bear to think of it; it makes me shudder now--so like the tread of a skeleton!”