ts my sight. The
room was large and lofty. It was fitted up as an Eastern tent. The walls
were hung with scarlet cloth tied up with ropes of gold. Round the room
crouched recumbent lions richly gilt, who grasped in their paw a lance,
the top of which was a colored lamp. The ceiling was emblazoned with the
Hauteville arms, and was radiant with burnished gold. A cresset lamp was
suspended from the centre of the shield, and not only emitted an equable
flow of soft though brilliant light, but also, as the aromatic oil
wasted away, distilled an exquisite perfume.

The table blazed with golden plate, for the Bird of Paradise loved
splendor. At the end of the room, under a canopy and upon a throne, the
shield and vases lately executed for his Grace now appeared. Everything
was gorgeous, costly, and imposing; but there was no pretense, save in
the original outline, at maintaining the Oriental character. The
furniture was French; and opposite the throne Canova's Hebe, by
Bertolini, bounded with a golden cup from a pedestal of _ormolu_.

The guests are seated; but after a few minutes the servants withdraw.
Small tables of ebony and silver, and dumb-waiters of ivory and gold,
conveniently stored, are at hand, and Spiridion never leaves the room.
The repast was most refined, most exquisite, and most various. It was
one of those meetings where all eat. When a few persons, easy and
unconstrained, unincumbered with cares, and of dispositions addicted to
enjoyment, get together at past midnight, it is extraordinary what an
appetite they evince. Singers also are proverbially prone to gormandize;
and though the Bird of Paradise unfortunately possessed the smallest
mouth in all Singingland, it is astonishing how she pecked! But they
talked as well as feasted, and were really gay. It was amusing to
observe--that is to say, if you had been a dumb-waiter, and had time for
observation--how characteristic was the affectation of the women. Lady
Squib was witty, Mrs. Annesley refined, and the pseudo Lady Afy
fashionable. As for Mrs. Montfort, she was, as her wont, somewhat
silent but excessively sublime. The Spaniard said nothing, but no doubt
indicated the possession of Cervantic humor by the sly calmness with
which she exhausted her own waiter and pillaged her neighbors. The
little Frenchwoman scarcely ate anything, but drank champagne and
chatted, with equal rapidity and equal composure.

"Prince," said the duke, "I hope Madame de Harestein