Mulberry Garden was aristocratic, and remained so until its vogue came to abate--which it was already threatening to do--through the growing reputation of that “Jardin Printemps” at Lambeth, to the entrance of which a trip across the water made such a pleasant prelude. Never popularly patronized, there were times when--robuster novelties attracting--the exclusive might enjoy its green walks and hospitalities with the sense almost of being a privileged company invited to a _fête champêtre_. It had, of course, its central restaurant--without which it could not have existed aristocratically--in the building known as Mulberry Garden House, where quite _recherché_ little dinners could be eaten; and, indeed, it was there that Mr. Pepys (to mention him but once again) discussed that “Spanish Olio,” chartered by one Shere, and mentioned in the Diary, which he found so richly delectable--“a very noble dish such as I never saw better or more of.” In this room Fashion would dine--and often too liberally wine, too--before emerging to tickle its pseudo-pastoral sentiment with pretence of neo-Arcadian groves and flowery shepherdesses; and it was from this room that, vizard on brow, Mr. George Hamilton issued at about a quarter past eight o’clock on a certain soft and windless June night. He looked sharply about him, as he descended the steps into the open, searching among the company within his range for a particular token. It was one of those exceptional occasions when the visitors were relatively few, and as such widely scattered among the walks and trees. All the space before him was strung with tiny lamps, festooned from branch to branch, or ambushed in cloudy green like glow-worms. They cast a diffused light, enough to distinguish people by, but clothing one and all in a romantic glamour very soft and mystic. Many, most, in fact, of the company wore vizards. Women, indeed, on view in public places, seldom appeared unmasked, not from blushing modesty, but to hide their inability to blush at all where a blush was called for. That was understood, and derided; yet, while wit and address might effect what they could in the way of persuasion, it was an article of the strictest punctilio that no vizor should be removed by force--a rule so respected that any abuse of it was like enough, in those hot times, to lead to bloody reprisals on the offender. Now, not distinguishing what he sought--and, indeed, the hour was yet early for an expected trysting--Master George sauntered away, with the purpose to seek some retired spot, where he might pin about his hat the green emblem of identification which he had brought with him in his pocket. On his way, reaching an open space where much company was congregated, he stopped to ascertain the cause of the assembling, and perceived, seated upon a green knoll in the midst, the long, grey-clad figure of a harpist, who was in the act of tuning up his instrument before performing.