The young people were attended by their
matrons, who were there to supervise the morals and manners of their
charges. To secure the performance of this duty, the young people took
good care to sit where the matrons could not see them, nor did they, by
any chance, look toward the quarter in which the matrons sat. In that
quarter, through all the varying mazes of the prolonged dance, to two
o'clock, to three, to four, sat the bediamonded dowagers, the mothers,
the matrons--against nature, against common sense. They babbled with
each other, they drowsed, they dozed. Their fans fell listless into
their laps. In the adjoining room, out of the waking sight, even, of the
then sleeping mamas, the daughters whirled in the close embrace of
partners who had brought down bottles of champagne from the supper-room,
and put them by the side of their chairs for occasional refreshment
during the dance. The dizzy hours staggered by--"Azalia, you _must_ come
now," had been already said a dozen times, but only as by the scribes.
Finally it was declared with authority. Azalia went--Amelia--Arabella.
The rest followed. There was prolonged cloaking, there were lingering
farewells.
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