Preparations were carried on apace.  The whole Castle was to be lighted and decorated, regardless of expense, while even the servants’ dresses were to be manufactured by the masters of their craft, and approved of by heraldic authorities, in order that the right effect of the period, that of two hundred years back, might be maintained.  Never had a ball been carried out with such a wealth of detail.

Throughout all this, and during the many visits which Adrien found necessary to make to Barminster, journeying backwards and forwards in his great car, Lady Constance maintained a smiling, gentle demeanour; but she allowed him no opportunity for explanation, seeming rather to avoid his presence.  Even Lord Barminster, watching his two dear ones closely, was not blind to the gravity of the situation; but he trusted to Constance’s love to make matters right in the end.

At last the eventful night came.  The temporary stables which the village carpenters had been erecting close to the ordinary ones were rapidly filling.  Cars and carriages stood side by side, as guests from town and the surrounding districts arrived; and the air resounded with the clatter and rattle of the horses’ hoofs and carriage wheels, mingled with the hooting of motor horns.

Within the Castle all was light and mirth.  Ripples of laughter and the buzz of conversation went on incessantly, as the guests arrived in their varied and gorgeous costumes.

The walls of the great reception rooms had all been covered with priceless tapestry, and as far as possible made to represent the ball-room of Antony Leroy, two hundred years ago.  But the guests themselves had not been asked to keep to any period of history or fashion, and, therefore, it was the most incongruous crowd that had ever gathered within the walls of Barminster Castle.  Never were dresses more regal or more magnificent, alike in materials, colour and decoration.  Cavaliers in silks and satins, with plumed hats and jewelled swords; Crusaders in glittering mail and silver armour.  Alsace peasant girls mingled with Carmelite monks and Sicilian nuns.  Shakespeare’s characters were legion—­Portias, Cymbelines, Katherines and Shylocks, all laughed and jested together, their identity concealed beneath their black velvet masks.  It seemed as if every character and fable had risen to throng the halls of Barminster Castle that night.

Up in the gallery above the great ball-room a famous orchestra poured forth melody, and the guests were awaiting the entrance of their host as a signal to start dancing.

The last visitor had arrived, when Lord Barminster and his sister came from the entrance hall, where they had stood so long.  The old man had merely donned a domino over his evening dress and carried his mask in his hand; but Miss Penelope had had her elaborate dress copied from a picture of Lord Antony’s wife, which hung in the Picture Gallery.  The gown was composed of soft grey satin, over which hung a veil of gold chiffon embroidered with pearls.  An embroidery of gold wheat-ears sown with pearls decorated the bodice and the long, grey satin train; this, together with the family diamonds, made Miss Penelope an imposing figure, even in that bevy of fair women and gorgeous gowns.