or," he continued, peering
round the corner of the blind. "The rooms are all lighted up, and I can
hear them tuning the instruments. Maybe we'd better go across."

"Vorvarts, then!" said Von Baumser resolutely; and the two set off, the
major with a fixed determination that he should know his fate before the
evening was over.

CHAPTER XXIX.

THE GREAT DANCE AT MORRISON'S.

Never in the whole history of Morrison's boarding establishment had such
festive preparations been known. The landlady herself had entered heart
and soul into the business, and as all the boarders had received
invitations for themselves and their friends, they co-operated in every
possible manner to make the evening a success. The large drawing-room
had been cleared and the floor waxed. This process left it in a very
glassy and orthodox condition, as the cook discovered when, on bustling
in, the back of her cranium came in violent contact with the boards,
while her body described a half-circle with a velocity which completely
eclipsed any subsequent feats of agility shown by the dancers in the
evening. The saloon had been very tastefully laid out as a supper-room,
and numerous other little chambers were thrown open and brightened up to
serve as lounging places for those who were fatigued. In the parlour
there were two card-tables, and every other convenience for any who
preferred sedentary amusements. Altogether both Mrs. Morrison and the
boarders, in solemn conclave assembled, agreed that the thing looked
very promising, and that it would be a credit to the establishment.

The guests were as varied as the wines, though hardly as select.
Mrs. Scully's exuberant hospitality included, as already intimated, not
only her own friends, but those of her fellow-boarders, so that from an
early hour the rooms began to fill, and by nine o'clock there was hardly
space for the dancers. Hansoms and growlers rattled up in a continuous
stream and discharged their burdens. There was a carpet down from the
kerb to the head of the lodging-house steps, "like r'yalty," as the cook
expressed it, and the greengrocer's man in the hall looked so pompous
and inflated in his gorgeous attire that his own cabbages would hardly
have recognized him. His main defect as a footman was that he was
somewhat hard of hearing, and had a marvellous faculty of
misinterpreting whatever was said to him, which occasionally led to
remarkable results. Thus, when he announced