A Rolling Stone by B. M. Croker

There had been an outbreak of festivities in the neighbourhood of lethargic Ottinge; the climax of these was a grand ball given by Mrs. Woolcock at Westmere, to celebrate her youngest daughter's engagement to Lord Lowestoff. Every one who was any one -- and indeed not a few nobodies -- were bidden as guests; Mrs. Woolcock liked to see her rooms crammed to suffocation. No expense was spared -- the arrangements were made on a lavish scale. On this occasion the extra waiters and other luxuries were imported from London by special train, and a carefully selected house-party provided the bride-elect with a ready-made court that intervened between the future peeress and the vulgar herd. Dancing took place in the great drawing-room (in old days it was called the White Saloon), and through its wide, open windows humble spectators -- such as coachmen and chauffeurs -- were at liberty to look on, to wonder, and to criticise.

The Misses Parrett and their niece were present. Miss Parrett -- who had nerved herself for the ordeal with a glass and a half of port -- had motored to Westmere through the darkness, with great, flaring lamps -- a truly heart-shaking experience! but she was determined to exhibit her new velvet gown and her new diamonds. Her satisfaction with her own appearance was such that, before she embarked on her venture into the night and the motor, her household were summoned to a private view -- precisely as if she were a young beauty or a bride!