This was a dinner of which the guests came to partake. Though they
delighted in each other's society, their meetings were not so rare that
they need sacrifice the elegant pleasures of a refined meal for the
opportunity of conversation. They let that take its chance, and ate
and drank without affectation. Nothing so rare as a female dinner where
people eat, and few things more delightful. On the present occasion some
time elapsed, while the admirable performances of Sidonia's cook were
discussed, with little interruption; a burst now and then from the
ringing voice of Mrs. Coningsby crossing a lance with her habitual
opponent, Mr. Vavasour, who, however, generally withdrew from the
skirmish when a fresh dish was handed to him.
At length, the second course being served, Mrs. Coningsby said, 'I think
you have all eaten enough: I have a piece of information for you. There
is going to be a costume ball at the Palace.'
This announcement produced a number of simultaneous remarks and
exclamations. 'When was it to be? What was it to be? An age, or a
country; or an olio of all ages and all countries?'
'An age is a masquerade,' said Sidonia. 'The more contracted the circle,
the more perfect the illusion.'
'Oh, no!' said Vavasour, shaking his head.
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