d be
considered respectable among what are called palazzos in Italy. The
entrance was into an entresol paved with stone, and the ascent by a
broad flight of stone steps. The concert room was the sala. At one end
was a platform, with instruments for the performers and amateurs, and
two rows of chairs were arranged in parallel lines, opposite each
other, the whole length of the room. When we entered, one row was
occupied entirely by ladies, while that opposite was vacant. We
approached it, but, fortunately, before exposing our ignorance of
Merida etiquette, it occurred to us that these also were intended for
ladies, and we moved on to a corner which afforded a longitudinal view
of one line and an oblique view of the other. As different parties
arrived, after leaving shawls, &c., at the door, a gentleman entered,
leading the lady by the hand, which seemed much more graceful and
gallant than our fashion of hitching her on his arm, particularly when
there were two ladies. Leading her to a seat, he left her, and retired
to the corridor, or the embrasure of a window. This continued till the
whole line of chairs was filled up, and we were crowded out of our
corner for our betters, so that the room presented a _coup d'[oe]il_ of
ladies only. Here they sat, not to be touched, handled, or spoken to,
but only to be looked at, which, long before the concert was over, some
were tired of doing, and I think I am safe in saying that the faces of
some of the ladies lighted up when the concert was done, and the
gentlemen were invited to take partners for a waltz.

For the first time in my life, I saw beauty in a waltz. It was not the
furious whirl of the French waltz, stirring up the blood, making men
perspire and young ladies look red, but a slow, gentle, and graceful
movement, apparently inducing a languid, dreaming, and delightful state
of being. The music, too, instead of bursting with a deafening crash,
stole on the ear so gently, that, though every note was heard clearly
and distinctly, it made no noise; and as the feet of the dancers fell
to the gentle cadence, it seemed as if the imagination was only touched
by the sound. Every face wore an expression of pure and refined
enjoyment--an enjoyment derived rather from sentiment than from excited
animal spirits. There were not the show and glitter of the ballroom in
Europe or at home, but there were beauty of personal appearance, taste
in dress, and propriety and simplicity of manners.