this unequalled supper-room was an immense bronze
candelabrum, which rose in the centre from a column of black marble. It
was the figure of an Italian elm, slender and of thin foliage, embraced,
almost enveloped, in a vine, which reached out and supported itself in
hanging from all the branches; the twigs bearing fruit, not of grapes, but
of a hundred little spheres of crimson, violet, and golden light, whose
combination produced a soft atmosphere of no certain color.

Neither Honoria, Dalton, nor myself remained long in the gallery. We
retired with a select few, and were served in an antechamber, separated
from the grand reception-room by an arch, through which, by putting aside
a silk curtain, Honoria could see, at a distance, any that entered, as
they passed in from the hall.

My own position was such that I could look over her shoulder and see as
she saw. _Vis-a-vis_ with her, and consequently with myself, was Adonais,
a celebrated author, and person of the _beau monde_. On his left, Dalton,
always mysteriously elegant and dangerously witty. Denslow and Jeffrey
Lethal, the critic, completed our circle. The conversation was easy,
animated, personal.

"You are fortunate in having a woman of taste to manage your
entertainments," said Lethal, in answer to a remark of Denslow's,--"but in
bringing these people together she has made a sad blunder."

"And what may that be?" inquired Dalton, mildly.

"Your guests are too well behaved, too fine, and on their guard; there are
no butts, no palpable fools or vulgarians; and, worse, there are many
distinguished, but no one great man,--no social or intellectual sovereign
of the occasion."

Honoria looked inquiringly at Lethal. "Pray, Mr. Lethal, tell me who he
is? I thought there was no such person in America," she added, with a look
of reproachful inquiry at Dalton and myself, as if we should have found
this sovereign and suggested him.

"You are right, my dear queen; Lethal is joking," responded Dalton; "we
are a democracy, and have only a queen of"----

"Water ices," interrupted Lethal; "but, as for the king you seek, as
democracies finally come to that,"----

"Good Heavens!" exclaimed Honoria, raising the curtain, "it must be he
that is coming in."

Honoria frowned slightly, rose, and advanced to meet a new-comer, who had
entered unannounced, and was advancing alone. Dalton followed to support
her. I observed their movements,--Lethal and Adonais using my face as a