covered with smilax and roses.
In the middle of this new room was a huge illuminated ship of ice, in a
green sea.

Everybody exclaimed and laughed in their surprise at such an unexpected
transformation. Now was the time for unmasking, of course, and there
were shrieks of surprise and amusement as people discovered who their
companions really were. For a minute--I'm sure it couldn't have been
more--I forgot Mr. Brett, to stare at the great glittering ice ship.
When I turned to speak to him, he was gone. And whether he vanished on
purpose, because he didn't want to unmask in a company of strange
people, or whether he was separated from me by the sudden press of the
crowd, I don't know. I suppose I shall never know. I only know that I
lost him, and that I was immediately surrounded by other men, saying
nice things about my costume, wanting me to have supper with them, and
asking me for dances afterwards.

[Illustration: "_When I turned to speak to him he was gone ... and I
was immediately surrounded by other men asking me for dances_"]

The rest of the night went by with a wild rush. We didn't stop dancing
till four, we young people; and I believe the older ones played bridge.
We had a second supper served upstairs towards dawn, and when the last
people went away, it was broad and glorious daylight.

"Well, deah," said Sally, cosily, when everyone had gone, and she had
come into my room to help me undress. "Had you a good time?"

"Splendid!" said I, sighing with joy. "I'm dancing still--in my head.
My first ball!"

"Katherine doesn't call it a ball. But that's a detail. Had you any
proposals?"

"Oh, Sally, how came you to think of such a thing? But isn't it _too_
extraordinary? I had three."

"Why extraordinary?"

"Because I hardly knew the men!"

"Americans make up their minds quickly about what they want."

"So Mr. P--So I've been told."

"Accept anyone?"

"Not I."

"Didn't even give them a wee mite of hope?"

"Dear me, no."

"Poor Potter--for one."

"Sally, I do wish he _wouldn't_--do that sort of thing, since you speak
of it. It makes it so embarrassing. And somehow, I don't feel he really
means it. I've always the impression that--that he does it because he
thinks he ought."

"He'd like to marry you, Betty. There's no doubt of that. And one can't
blame him for it."

"Well, if he keeps on, I shall be driven away," I said. "Although they
don't _want_ me to go home yet, for--for several reason