rings of a stone-plash on a great pond.

I enjoy friendships and regards which would satisfy the most fastidious.
Are not the Denslows enormously rich? Is not Dalton a sovereign of
elegance? It was I who gave the fame of these qualities to the world, in
true colors, not flattered. And _they_ know it, and love me. Honoria
Denslow is the most beautiful and truly charming woman of society. It was
I who first said it; and she is my friend, and loves me. I defy poverty;
the wealth of all the senses is mine, without effort. I desire not to be
one of those who mingle as principals and sufferers; for they are less
causes than effects. As the Florentine in the Inferno saw the souls of
unfortunate lovers borne upon a whirlwind, so have I seen all things fair
and precious,--outpourings of wealth,--all the talents,--all the offerings
of duty and devotion,--angelic graces of person and of soul,--borne and
swept violently around on the circular gale. Wealth is only an enlargement
of the material boundary, and leaves the spirit free to dash to and fro,
and exhaust itself in vain efforts.--But I am philosophizing,--oddly
enough,--when I should describe.

An exquisite little note from Honoria, sent at the last moment, asking me
to be present that evening at a "select" party, which was to open the "new
house,"--the little palace of the Denslows,--lay beside me on the table.
It was within thirty minutes of nine o'clock, the hour I had fixed for
going. A howling winter out of doors, a clear fire glowing in my little
grate. My arm-chair, a magnificent present from Honoria, shaming the
wooden fixtures of the poor room, invited to meditation, and perhaps the
composition of some delicate periods. They formed slowly. Time, it is
said, devours all things; but imagination, in turn, devours time,--and,
indeed, swallowed my half-hour at a gulp. The neighboring church-clock
tolled nine. I was belated, and hurried away.

It was a _reunion_ of only three hundred invitations, selected by my
friend Dalton, the intimate and adviser of Honoria. So happy were their
combinations, scarce a dozen were absent or declined.

At eleven, the guests began to assemble. Introductions were almost
needless. Each person was a recognized member of "society." One-half of
the number were women,--many of them young, beautiful, accomplished,--
heiresses, "charming widows," poetesses of real celebrity, and, rarer
still, of good repute,--wives of millionnaires, flashing in s