Louison laughed, gave her handsome head a disdainful toss, and, passing by the astonished servant, entered the hall, which she surveyed with tranquil curiosity, lifting her face to examine the exquisitely carved corbel of the ceiling, and giving a general survey of the statues and antique ornaments which surrounded her. After her curiosity was satisfied, she took the scarf from her shoulders, and, untying the gipsy bonnet from her head, hung them both on the arm of a mailed statue that stood near the door, gave the bright, crisp ringlets on her head a vigorous shake, and, guided by a riot of voices, walked toward the saloon, with all the easy confidence of an invited guest. The picture which this woman intruded upon was something wonderful in its splendid incongruity. A Venetian chandelier, whose heavy pendants of flat, half opaque glass swayed to and fro in a sea of radiance, shed a broad blaze of light upon a table gorgeous with exquisite china, malachite and crystal vases, running over with flowers, glittering with gold and silver plate. Crystal goblets, sparkling with wine, amber-hued, ruby-tinted, and of purplish darkness, swayed to and fro in the hands of half a dozen loosely-clad women, who were busily wreathing them with flowers, in imitation of the ancient Greeks, themselves looking like heathen goddesses, rather than Christian women. A group of men in full dress, worn awkwardly, except in one or two cases, leaned upon the table in various attitudes, and watched the women as they proceeded in their classical work, now and then rifling the vases, and tossing their blossoms across the table in aid of the growing garlands. Everything that the light touched was warm with rich coloring. Masses of frescoed flowers glowed out from the ceiling. Each panel in the wall was an exquisite picture. Broad mirrors were sunk deep in frames carved in masses of delicate golden foliage, broken up by clusters of white lilies, devised at the royal works at Sevres. These lilies seemed to be cut from luminous pearls, and shed their own light upon the mirrors; for the stamens were of perfumed wax, and burned like a star, while a perfume, like that of the natural flower, stole out from each tiny flame.