Lady Morven appeared as a Sultana, dressed in all that could be devised of magnificence. Having some taste, her ladyship made many deviations from the hackneyed costume—wearing one, the groundwork of which, instead of being of the strong and unbecoming colours generally adopted, was of white satin; though that pure fabric was nearly covered with rich highly raised embroidery of the most brilliant hues, mixed with gold. Both tunic and petticoat were deeply bordered and fringed with gold, and the latter adorned with peculiar richness up the front, where the opening of the former displayed it to great advantage. The trowser and open hanging sleeve were of course not forgotten, while the numberless claspings, fastenings, and loopings, bracelets and armlets, with the superb zone and stomacher, necklace and crescent, all of jewels, chiefly brilliants, brought together such a concentration of dazzling rays, that, when over all was flung a veil of a material so transparent that nothing of it could be seen but the beautiful miniature flowers, embroidered in gold and bright colours, with which it was sprinkled; those flowers, as the moving of the invisible drapery caused them to float around, seemed so many painted and glittering butterflies, following and fluttering in the blaze of light emitted by so much splendour. The bird of paradise too, worn in front of the turban, and sustained by the crescent of jewels, was thus so severed by their lustre from all that seemed tangible, that he appeared hovering above the bright vision, as doubtful where to alight. Her ladyship leaned on the arm of Mr. Graham, who had assumed the dress of a Sultan, on being assured that it would not be required of him to do any thing but loll on an ottoman.