It is now one hour past noon, and I went to bed at nine this morning. My
limbs acknowledged a most unusual portion of weariness; but the gay
shadows of the night's diversions flitted before me in tumultuous
rotation. I had moments of insensibility on my pillow, but not of rest;
and, after making a vain attempt of two hours to find sleep, I rose and
ordered my breakfast. A thought of writing to you succeeded, for
tempestuous weather will not let me ride, and haggard looks forbid me to
visit.
Mrs. Ashburn's fortune must be immense; and, on my soul, I adore her
spirit. She does not suffer time to steal by her unnoticed; nor wealth
to sleep in her possession. I believe her very dreams are occupied in
forming variety of pleasures. Their succession is endless and perpetual.
Yesterday and last night, I made one of a brilliant crowd of visitors
who thronged to Mrs. Ashburn's. Her new house was purposely prepared for
this occasion; and no ornament that taste could devise and wealth
approve was wanting to render it complete in elegant splendour.--A suite
of rich apartments were yesterday morning thrown open for the reception
of near 300 persons. It was a breakfast worthy to be recorded among the
enchantments of a Persian tale; and every mouth was filled with
applause; and still would the breakfast and concert have been the
universal theme, had not the more novel and splendid entertainment of
the evening deservedly claimed the superior praise.
Mrs. Ashburn's cards had also invited the company of the morning to a
masqued ball for the night. The masques began to assemble about eleven.
Mrs. Ashburn had laid her commands on me not to appear till I judged the
company would be assembled. No small tribute this her command to the
vanity of your friend, Arthur. She had chosen my habit. She had added to
it some brilliant ornaments. I will be honest enough to confess that to
the utmost it displayed my advantages of person, and Mrs. Ashburn
believed the effect of the whole would be striking. I represented a
winged Mercury. My habit of pale blue sattin was fastened close around
me with loops, buttons, and tassels of orient pearls, these, amounting
to a value I dare hardly guess at, Mrs. Ashburn absolutely forced upon
me for the occasion.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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