dy are well.
Much pleased to see you. Hope you'll enjoy yourselves. We've laid out
to have everything in good shape,--spared no trouble nor ex"--

"pence,"--said Silas Peckham.

Mrs. Colonel Sprowle, who, you remember, was a Jordan, had nipped the
Colonel's statement in the middle of the word Mr. Peckham finished, with
a look that jerked him like one of those sharp twitches women keep giving
a horse when they get a chance to drive one.

Mr. and Mrs. Crane, Miss Ada Azuba, and Miss Mahala Crane made their
entrance. There had been a discussion about the necessity and propriety
of inviting this family, the head of which kept a small shop for hats and
boots and shoes. The Colonel's casting vote had carried it in the
affirmative.--How terribly the poor old green de-laine did cut up in the
blaze of so many lamps and candles.

--Deluded little wretch, male or female, in town or country, going to
your first great party, how little you know the nature of the ceremony in
which you are to bear the part of victim! What! are not these garlands
and gauzy mists and many-colored streamers which adorn you, is not this
music which welcomes you, this radiance that glows about you, meant
solely for your enjoyment, young miss of seventeen or eighteen summers,
now for the first time swimming unto the frothy, chatoyant, sparkling,
undulating sea of laces and silks and satins, and white-armed,
flower-crowned maidens struggling in their waves beneath the lustres that
make the false summer of the drawing-room?

Stop at the threshold! This is a hall of judgment you are entering; the
court is in session; and if you move five steps forward, you will be at
its bar.

There was a tribunal once in France, as you may remember, called the
Chambre Ardente, the Burning Chamber. It was hung all round with lamps,
and hence its name. The burning chamber for the trial of young maidens
is the blazing ball-room. What have they full-dressed you, or rather
half-dressed you for, do you think? To make you look pretty, of course!
Why have they hung a chandelier above you, flickering all over with
flames, so that it searches you like the noonday sun, and your deepest
dimple cannot hold a shadow? To give brilliancy to the gay scene, no
doubt!--No, my clear! Society is inspecting you, and it finds
undisguised surfaces and strong lights a convenience in the process. The
dance answers the purpose of the revolving pedestal upon which the "White
Captive"