"Who bear about the mockery of woe
To midnight dances and the public shew."
None of them are remarkable for their beauty or elegance. The only new
face worth looking at was a madame V----, lately arrived from France;
her hair was dressed _a la Ninon de l'Enclos_, part of it fastened on
the top of the head, the rest hanging about her neck in loose curls.
The ball room had been newly furnished with regal splendor; all the
chairs were removed, and long sophas with large cushions offered
delightful seats. A recess at one end of the room had been fitted up _a
la Turc_; the walls were entirely concealed with large looking glasses,
which reached the ceiling; the floor was covered with carpets and the
only seats were piles of crimson sattin cushions thrown on the ground.
The lustres, veiled with green silk, gave a soft light, imitating that
of the moon, and the _ensemble_ breathed an air of tranquillity that
invited to repose after the fatigue of dancing, and offered a retreat
from the heat which it was almost impossible to resist. To this retreat
general Rochambeau led Clara. A lady was lolling in one corner, and I
entered at the same moment. He looked as if he wished us both away, but
I never attend to looks that I am resolved not to understand.