Kimball's set, who had
volunteered to help her receive.
The Rosebud wore a plaited garb of rose pink, with velvet petals
about her waist, and green velvet leaves about her throat. The
costume was so beautiful, and the figure so graceful, to say nothing
of the natural rose perfume it exhaled, that every one stopped to
admire.
The bell for the cotillion sounded, and when the ribbons were cast
to the gentlemen it was the Greek Adonis who caught the blue end. He
would lead.
For his partner he walked up to the saucy milkmaid, and claiming her
by right, proudly marched with her on his arm back to the center of
the platform.
A murmur of disapproval was heard. Why had he not chosen Cleopatra?
But Marc Anthony was eagerly waiting, and quickly sprang to the fair
charmer's side. Antonio, the silent, strode over to the market
woman--the height of incongruity.
A clown somersaulted to the Rosebud.
Night hung back. She seemed particular with whom she danced, and
when a very handsomely proportioned courtier stepped up to her she
refused him with a toss of her head. A star fell from her black
tresses, but the answer seemed final, and the courtier walked away.
Finally the music started, and the dancers with it.
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