The young ladies, however, whose sylph-like forms were gliding through the mazes of the dance, were the “orient pearls at random strung,” which principally attracted my attention. As the flush of a summer’s noon fades by insensible degrees into the ebon shades of night, so did the complexions of these charming damsels graduate from white to black. Youth, however, smiling, buxom youth, like the mantle of charity, covers a multitude of defects, or, if I may help myself to another and apter simile, possesses an alchymic power, which converts all it touches to gold. There were eyes, teeth, sportive ringlets, and graceful forms enough, in the Kidderpore ball-room, stamped with all its freshness, to atone for the darker shadings of the picture. For the first time, indeed, though previously imbued with the common and illiberal European prejudice against black, I began to experience a wavering, and to think that dark languishing eyes and a dash of bronze imparted what is often wanted in English beauties, somewhat of soul and character to the countenance. Music, lights, the excitement of the ball-room, are, however, it must be confessed, sad deceivers, producing illusions full oft, which painfully vanish with the morning’s light. For young ladies of thirty or thereabouts (an age, though now-a-days, I am credibly informed, never attained by spinsters), the ball-room and its factitious glare have some decided advantages. By day, Cupid, the sly urchin, can only make his attacks from smiles and dimples; but by night, at a pinch, he may launch a shaft with effect even from a wrinkle. The dance at length ceased; beaux bowed, ladies courtesied, and the throng broke into couples, and promenaded the apartment. Exhausted belles sunk into seats, whilst attentive youths fanned and _persiflaged_, laughed at nothing, and studied “the agreeable.” Such was the posture of affairs, when the head of the establishment, a lady of about five-and-forty, of pleasing appearance and address, seeing we were strangers, approached, and kindly bade us welcome. There was an amiability, and at the same time a firmness and decision in her manner, a happy admixture of the _suaviter_ and _fortiter_, which showed that she was peculiarly well qualified for the arduous task she had to perform of presiding over this establishment—a sort of nunnery travestied, in which perpetual celibacy formed no part of the vows, and the vigils differed widely from those which “pale-eyed virgins keep” in the gloomy seclusion of the convent. “Would you like to dance, sir?” said the lady, addressing herself to Captain Marpeet. “No, I thank you, ma’am,” said my blunt companion; “I am a little too stiff in the joints, and my dancing days are all over.”