A masculine biped hovered in the vicinity of Mrs. Ames, but as it was plain that he was no poet, a description of his person is omitted. In another parlor were to be seen a galaxy of diamonds, with Mrs. Fernando Wood attached to the back of them. The writer has never seen so many handsome gems assembled, except on the person of Madame Bodisco, who used to wear the Russian family jewels at Washington. A necklace of great value sparkled at her throat, great clusters gleamed in her hair, her handsome arms were manacled with the same, but she did not seem to mind being a prisoner, for when her jailor appeared in the person of the Hon. Fernando, she took his arm just the same as if he were like other men. The Hon. Samuel Hooper, of Massachusetts, was there, the finest wintry picture on the floor. After the same manner of the Secretary of State, he looks as if the earth loved him and had brought him the choicest offerings in her power. The sunshine of life has mellowed his character. Altogether he is a New England elm, around which the ivy of youth and affection loves to twine. Few men have so many strong friends as Mr. Hooper, and none can be found in public life less harassed by enemies. For hours this distinguished sea of humanity whirled and surged through the mansion. Waiters managed, by some secret known only to themselves, to wedge their way through the dense throng and refresh the guests with cakes and ices. A room was provided where coffee and chocolate were served, but no costly wine or any other beverage that intoxicates was seen at the reception of the Secretary of War.