CHAPTER VII.
HOW A MASQUERADE BEGAN.
A crush of carriages about a stately doorway; a flitting of gorgeous,mysterious, grotesque and dainty figures through the broad, open portal;a glow of lights; a gleaming of vivid color; a glory of rich blossoms; acrash of music; a bubble of joyous voices; beauty, hilarity, luxuryeverywhere.
It is the night of the great Warburton masquerade, the event of eventsin the social world. Archibald Warburton, the invalid millionaire, hasopened his splendid doors, for the pleasure of his young and lovelywife, to receive the friendly five hundred who adore her, and havecrowned her queen of society.
He will neither receive, nor mingle with his wife's guests; he is toomuch an invalid, too confirmed a recluse for that. But his brother, AlanWarburton, younger by ten years, handsomer by all that constitutes manlybeauty, will play the host in his stead--and do it royally, too, forAlan is a man of the world, a man of society, a refined, talented,aristocratic young man of leisure. Quite a Lion as well, for he has butrecently returned from an extended European tour and is the "newest man"in town. And society dearly loves that which is new, especially when,with the newness, there is combined manly beauty--and wealth.
With such a host as handsome Alan Warburton, such a hostess as hisbrother's beautiful wife, and such an assistant as her sparkling,piquant little companion, Winnifred French, who could predict for thismasquerade anything but the most joyous ending, the most pronouncedsuccess? Ah! our social riddles are hard to read.
Into this scene of revelry, while it is yet early, before the music hasreached its wildest strains, and the dancing its giddiest whirl, comes asmart servant girl, leading by the hand a child of four or five summers,a dainty fair-haired creature. In her fairy costume of white satin withits silvery frost work and gleaming pearls; with her gossamer wings andglittering aureole of spun gold; her dainty wand and childish grace,she is the loveliest sight in the midst of all that loveliness, for nodisfiguring mask hides the beautiful, eager face that gazes down thelong vista of decorated drawing rooms, library, music room, boudoir, inwondering, half frightened expectation.
"They're beginning to dance down there," says the maid, drawing thechild toward a lofty archway, through which they can watch the swiftlywhirling figures of the dancers. "Why, _do_ come along, Miss Daisy; onewould think your Pa's house was full of bears and wild-cats, to see youractions."
But the child draws back and grasps fearfully at the skirts of herattendant.
"What makes 'em look so queer, Millie? Isn't you afraid?"
"Why no, Miss Daisy. There's nothing to be afraid of. See; all thesefunny-looking people are your papa's friends, and your new mamma's, andyour uncle Alan's. Look, now,"--drawing the reluctant childforward,--"just look at them! There goes a--a _Turk_, I guess, and--"
"What makes they all have black things on their faces, Millie?"
"Why, child, that's the fun of it all. If it wasn't for them maskseverybody would know everybody else, and there wouldn't be nomasquerade."
"No what?"
"No _masquerade_, child. Now look at that; there goes a pope, or acardinal; and there, oh my! that must be a Gipsy--or an Injun."
"A Gipsy or an Indian; well done, Millie, ha ha ha!"
At the sound of these words they turn swiftly. A tall masker, in a blackand scarlet domino, is standing just behind them, and little Daisyutters one frightened cry and buries her face in Millie's drapery.
"Why, Daisy;" laughs the masker; "little Daisy, are you frightened?Come, this will never do."
With a quick gesture he flings off the domino and removes the mask fromhis face, thus revealing a picturesque sailor's costume, and a handsomeface that bears, upon one cheek, the representation of a tattooedanchor.
While he is thus transforming himself, the outer door opens and admits afigure clad in soft flowing robes of scarlet and blue and white, with amantle of stars about the stately shoulders, and the cap of Liberty uponthe well-poised head. The entrance of the Goddess of Liberty isunnoticed by the group about the archway, and, after a swift glance atthem, that august lady glides behind a screen which stands invitinglynear the door, and, sinking upon a divan in the corner, seems intentupon the classic arrangement of her white and crimson draperies.
"Now look," says Alan Warburton, flinging the discarded domino upon achair; "look, Daisy, darling. Why, pet, you were afraid of your ownuncle Alan."
The little one peers at him from behind Millie's skirts and then comesslowly forward.
"Why, uncle Alan, how funny you look, and--your face is dirty!"
"Oh! Daisy," taking her up in his arms and smiling into her eyes; "youare a sadly uncultivated young person. My face is tattooed, for 'I'm asailor bold.'"
"See all those funny-looking people are your papa'sfriends."--page 65]
While uncle and niece are thus engaged in playful talk, and Millie isintently watching the dancers, they are again approached; this time bytwo ladies,--one in the flowing, glittering, gorgeous robes of Sunlight,the other in a dainty Carmen costume of scarlet and black and gold. Bothladies are masked, and, as they enter from an alcove in the rear ofthe room, they, too, approach unperceived. Seeing the group about thearchway, one of them makes a signal of silence. They stop, and standingclose together, wait.
"It just occurs to me, Millie," says Alan Warburton, turning suddenly tothe maid; "it just occurs to me to inquire how you came in charge ofMiss Daisy here. Where is Miss Daisy's maid?"
The girl throws back her head, with a gesture that causes every ribbonupon her cap to flutter, as she replies, with a look of defiance and anindignant sniff:
"_Mrs._ Warburton put Miss Daisy in my care, sir, and I don't know_where_ Miss Daisy's maid may be."
"Umph! well it seems to me that--" He stops and looks at the child.
"That I ain't the properest person to look after Miss Daisy, I 'sposeyou mean--"
"Millie, you are growing impertinent."
"Because I'm a poor girl that the _mistress_ of this house took in outof kindness--"
"Millie; _will_ you stop!" and he puts little Daisy down with a gestureof impatience.
"I'm trying to do my duty," goes on the irate damsel; "and Mrs.Warburton, _my_ mistress, has given me my orders, sir, _consequently_--"
"Oh! if Mrs. Warburton has issued such judicious orders," and he takesup his mask and domino, "I retire from the field."
"It's time to stop them, Winnie," says the lady in the garments ofSunlight, taking off her mask hastily. "Alan never could get on with araw servant. I see war in Millie's eyes."
Then she comes forward, mask in hand, and followed by the laughingCarmen.
"Alan, you are in difficulty, I see," laughing, in spite of her attemptat gravity. "Millie, I fear, is not quite up to your standard of silentperfection."
"May I ask, Mrs. Warburton, if she is your ideal of a companion for thischild?"
The tone is faintly tinged with scorn and sternness, and LeslieWarburton's eyes cease to smile as she replies, with dignity:
"She is my servant, Mr. Warburton. We will not discuss her merits in herpresence. I will relieve you of any further trouble on her account."
"Where, may I ask, is Daisy's own maid?"
"In her room, with a headache that unfits her for duty. Come here,Daisy."
Up to this moment Alan Warburton has kept the hand of the child claspedin his own. He now releases it with evident reluctance, and the littlefairy bounds toward her stepmother.
"Mamma, how lovely you look!" reaching up her arms to caress the headthat bends toward her. "Mamma, take me with you where the music is."
"Have you been to Papa's room, Daisy? You know we must not let him feellonely to-night."
"Exceeding thoughtfulness," mutters Alan Warburton to himself, as heturns to resume his domino. Then aloud, to his sister-in-law, he says:
"I have just visited my brother's room, Mrs. Warburton; he wished to seeyou for a moment, I believe. Daisy, will you come with me?"
He exte
nds his hand to the child, who gives a willful toss of the headas she replies, clinging closer to her stepmother the while:
"No; I going to stay with my new mamma."
As Alan Warburton turns away, with a shade of annoyance upon his face,he meets the mirthful eyes of Carmen, and is greeted by a saucy sally.
"What a bear you can be, Alan, when you try your hand at domesticdiscipline. Put on your domino and your dignity once more. You look likea school boy who has just been whipped."
"Ah, Winnie," he says seriously, coming close to her side and seeking tolook into the blue, mocking eyes, "no need for me to see _your_ face,your sweet voice and your saucy words both betray you."
"Just as your bad temper has betrayed you! It's a pity you can'tappreciate Millie, sir; but then your sense of the ridiculous isshockingly deficient. There goes a waltz," starting forward hastily.
"It's my waltz; wait, Winnie."
But the laughing girl is half way down the long drawing-room, and hehurries after, replacing his mask and pulling on his domino as he goes.
Then Leslie Warburton, with a sigh upon her lips, draws the child againtoward her and says:
"You may wait here, Millie; I will take care of Daisy for a short time.And, Millie, remember in future when Mr. Warburton addresses you, thatyou are to answer him respectfully. Come, darling."
She turns toward the entrance, the child's hand clasped tightly in herown, and there, directly before her, stands a figure which she haslonged, yet dreaded, to meet--the Goddess of Liberty.
With a gasp of surprise, and a heart throbbing with agitation, LeslieWarburton hurriedly replaces her mask and turns to Millie.
"Millie, on second thought, you may take Daisy to her papa's room, andtell him I will be there soon. Daisy, darling, go with Millie."
"But, Mamma,--"
"There, there, dear, go to papa now; mamma will come."
With many a reluctant, backward glance, Daisy suffers herself to be ledaway, and then the Goddess of Liberty advances and bows before the ladyof the mansion.
"I am not mistaken," whispers that lady, glancing about her as iffearing an eavesdropper; "you are--"
"First," interrupts a mellow voice from behind the starry mask, "are_you_ Mrs. Warburton?"
"Yes."
"Then I am Richard Stanhope."