s began to fill up rapidly,
with a joyous and splendid company.

The entrance-hall, a vast square apartment, wainscoted with old
English oak, brighter and richer in its dark hues than mahogany,
received the entering guests; and what with the profusion of
wax-lights, pendant in gorgeous chandeliers from the carved roof, or
fixed in silver sconces to the walls, the gay festoons of green
wreaths and fresh summer flowers, mixed quaintly with old armor,
blazoned shields, and rustling banners, some of which had waved over
the thirsty plains of Syria, and been fanned by the shouts of triumph
that pealed so high at Cressy and Poitiers, it presented a not unapt
picture of that midway period--that halting-place, as it were, between
the old world and the new--when chivalry and feudalism had ceased
already to exist among the nations, but before the rudeness of reform
had banished the last remnants of courtesy, and the reverence for all
things that were high and noble--for all things that were fair and
graceful--for all things, in one word, except the golden calf, the
mob-worshiped mammon.

Within this stately hall was drawn up in glittering array, the
splendid band of the Life Guards, for royally himself was present, and
all the officers of that superb regiment, quartered at Windsor, had
followed in his train; and as an ordinary courtesy to their
well-proved and loyal host, the services of those chosen musicians had
been tendered and accepted.

Through many a dazzling corridor, glittering with lights, and redolent
of choicest perfumes, through many a fair saloon the guests were
marshaled to the great drawing-room, where, beneath a canopy of state,
the ill-advised and imbecile monarch, soon to be deserted by the very
princes and princesses who now clustered round his throne, sat, with
his host and his lovely daughters at his right hand, accepting the
homage of the fickle crowd, who were within a little year to bow
obsequiously to the cold-blooded Hollander.

That was a day of singular, and what would now be termed hideous
costumes--a day of hair-powder and patches, of hoops and trains, of
stiff brocades and tight-laced stomachers, and high-heeled shoes among
the ladies--of flowing periwigs, and coats with huge cuffs and no
collars, and voluminous skirts, of diamond-hilted rapiers, and diamond
buckles, ruffles of Valenciennes and Mecklin lace, among the ruder
sex. And though the individual might be metamorphosed strangely from