CHAPTER XXXVII. “GONE OFF IN HER WHITE SHOES!” In due time all preparations were completed for the reception of Mr. and Miss West’s guests. The grand staircase was lined with palm-trees and immense tropical ferns, and lights were cunningly arranged amid the dusky foliage; a fountain of scent played at the head of this splendid and unique approach, and here stood the host and hostess side by side. Mr. West was adorned in a plain evening suit--(would, oh! would that he might have decked himself with chains and orders!)--and a perennial smile. His daughter was arrayed in a French gown of white satin and white chiffon, powdered with silver. Diamonds shone on her bodice, her neck, and in her hair. She required no such adjuncts to set off her appearance, but there they were! Although tired and fagged, she looked as superior to most of her lady guests--who were chiefly of average everyday prettiness--as a Eucharist lily to a single dahlia. Her colour and eyes were exceptionally bright, for she was flushed by fatigue, excitement, and anxiety. No news was good news, she told herself. The last telegram was reassuring. There was no need to fret and worry. Half the miseries in the world are those that have never happened! So she cast doubt and care behind her as she took her place in the state quadrille and prepared to abandon herself to the occasion. No one in their senses would suspect for a moment that the beautiful, brilliant Miss West had a care on her mind, much less that her heart was aching with suspense with regard to her sick child. She indeed lulled her fears to sleep, and played the part of hostess to perfection--not dancing over much, as became the lady of the house, till quite late in the evening, or rather early in the morning, and having a word--the right word--and a smile for everybody. * * * * * The ball went off without a single drawback. The most fastidious young men avowed they had been “well done;” the most critical chaperones could detect no shortcomings in manners, partners, or refreshments. People enjoyed themselves; there was no after-supper exodus; the men and maidens found that they were not bored, and changed their minds about “going on.” Yes, distinguished guests remained unusually late. The supper, floor, and arrangements were faultless; and Mr. West was informed by one or two important folk “that such an entertainment reminded them of the Arabian Nights for its magnificence. It was a ball of balls.” The little speculator was almost beside himself with pride and self-satisfaction. Truly those many cheques that had to be drawn were already redeemed. He must, of course, pay for his whistle; but it was a pretty whistle, and worth its price.