CHAPTER XXI.

MRS. FOLLINGSBEE’S PARTY, AND WHAT CAME OF IT.

Our vulgar idea of a party is a week or fortnight of previous discomfort and chaotic tergiversation, and the mistress of it all distracted and worn out with endless cares.  Such a party bursts in on a well-ordered family state as a bomb bursts into a city, leaving confusion and disorder all around.  But it would be a pity if such a life-long devotion to the arts and graces as Mrs. Follingsbee had given, backed by Dick Follingsbee’s fabulous fortune, and administered by the exquisite Charlie Ferrola, should not have brought forth some appreciable results.  One was, that the great Castle of Indolence was prepared for the fete with no more ripple of disturbance than if it had been a Nereid’s bower, far down beneath the reach of tempests, where the golden sand is never ruffled, and the crimson and blue sea flowers never even dream of commotion.

Charlie Ferrola wore, it is true, a brow somewhat oppressed with care, and was kept tucked up on a rose-colored satin sofa, and served with lachrymae Christi, and Montefiascone, and all other substitutes for the dews of Hybla, while he draughted designs for the floral arrangements, which were executed by obsequious attendants in felt slippers; and the whole process of arrangement proceeded like a dream of the lotus-eaters’ paradise.

Madame de Tullegig was of course retained primarily for the adornment of Mrs. Follingsbee’s person.  It was understood, however, on this occasion, that the composition of the costumes was to embrace both hers and Lillie’s, that they might appear in a contrasted tableau, and bring out each other’s points.  It was a subject worthy a Parisian artiste, and drew so seriously on Madame de Tullegig’s brain-power, that she assured Mrs. Follingsbee afterwards that the effort of composition had sensibly exhausted her.

Before we relate the events of that evening, as they occurred, we must give some little idea of the position in which the respective parties now stood.

Harry Endicott, by his mother’s side, was related to Mrs. Van Astrachan.  Mr. Van Astrachan had been, in a certain way, guardian to him; and his success in making his fortune was in consequence of capital advanced and friendly patronage thus accorded.  In the family, therefore, he had the entree of a son, and had enjoyed the opportunity of seeing Rose with a freedom and frequency that soon placed them on the footing of old acquaintanceship.  Rose was an easy person to become acquainted with in an ordinary and superficial manner.  She was like those pellucid waters whose great clearness deceives the eye as to their depth.  Her manners had an easy and gracious frankness; and she spoke right on, with an apparent simplicity and fearlessness that produced at first the impression that you knew all her heart.  A longer acquaintance, however, developed depths of reserved thought and feeling far beyond what at first appeared.