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- Чарльз Диккенс
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In
the
ballroom
,
the
long
card
-
room
,
the
octagonal
card
-
room
,
the
staircases
,
and
the
passages
,
the
hum
of
many
voices
,
and
the
sound
of
many
feet
,
were
perfectly
bewildering
.
Dresses
rustled
,
feathers
waved
,
lights
shone
,
and
jewels
sparkled
.
There
was
the
music
—
not
of
the
quadrille
band
,
for
it
had
not
yet
commenced
;
but
the
music
of
soft
,
tiny
footsteps
,
with
now
and
then
a
clear
,
merry
laugh
—
low
and
gentle
,
but
very
pleasant
to
hear
in
a
female
voice
,
whether
in
Bath
or
elsewhere
.
Brilliant
eyes
,
lighted
up
with
pleasurable
expectation
,
gleamed
from
every
side
;
and
,
look
where
you
would
,
some
exquisite
form
glided
gracefully
through
the
throng
,
and
was
no
sooner
lost
,
than
it
was
replaced
by
another
as
dainty
and
bewitching
.
In
the
tea
-
room
,
and
hovering
round
the
card
-
tables
,
were
a
vast
number
of
queer
old
ladies
,
and
decrepit
old
gentlemen
,
discussing
all
the
small
talk
and
scandal
of
the
day
,
with
a
relish
and
gusto
which
sufficiently
bespoke
the
intensity
of
the
pleasure
they
derived
from
the
occupation
.
Mingled
with
these
groups
,
were
three
or
four
match
-
making
mammas
,
appearing
to
be
wholly
absorbed
by
the
conversation
in
which
they
were
taking
part
,
but
failing
not
from
time
to
time
to
cast
an
anxious
sidelong
glance
upon
their
daughters
,
who
,
remembering
the
maternal
injunction
to
make
the
best
use
of
their
youth
,
had
already
commenced
incipient
flirtations
in
the
mislaying
scarves
,
putting
on
gloves
,
setting
down
cups
,
and
so
forth
;
slight
matters
apparently
,
but
which
may
be
turned
to
surprisingly
good
account
by
expert
practitioners
.
Lounging
near
the
doors
,
and
in
remote
corners
,
were
various
knots
of
silly
young
men
,
displaying
various
varieties
of
puppyism
and
stupidity
;
amusing
all
sensible
people
near
them
with
their
folly
and
conceit
;
and
happily
thinking
themselves
the
objects
of
general
admiration
—
a
wise
and
merciful
dispensation
which
no
good
man
will
quarrel
with
.
And
lastly
,
seated
on
some
of
the
back
benches
,
where
they
had
already
taken
up
their
positions
for
the
evening
,
were
divers
unmarried
ladies
past
their
grand
climacteric
,
who
,
not
dancing
because
there
were
no
partners
for
them
,
and
not
playing
cards
lest
they
should
be
set
down
as
irretrievably
single
,
were
in
the
favourable
situation
of
being
able
to
abuse
everybody
without
reflecting
on
themselves
.
In
short
,
they
could
abuse
everybody
,
because
everybody
was
there
.
It
was
a
scene
of
gaiety
,
glitter
,
and
show
;
of
richly
-
dressed
people
,
handsome
mirrors
,
chalked
floors
,
girandoles
and
wax
-
candles
;
and
in
all
parts
of
the
scene
,
gliding
from
spot
to
spot
in
silent
softness
,
bowing
obsequiously
to
this
party
,
nodding
familiarly
to
that
,
and
smiling
complacently
on
all
,
was
the
sprucely
-
attired
person
of
Angelo
Cyrus
Bantam
,
Esquire
,
the
Master
of
the
Ceremonies
.
‘
Stop
in
the
tea
-
room
.
Take
your
sixpenn
’
orth
.
Then
lay
on
hot
water
,
and
call
it
tea
.
Drink
it
,
’
said
Mr
.
Dowler
,
in
a
loud
voice
,
directing
Mr
.
Pickwick
,
who
advanced
at
the
head
of
the
little
party
,
with
Mrs
.
Dowler
on
his
arm
.
Into
the
tea
-
room
Mr
.
Pickwick
turned
;
and
catching
sight
of
him
,
Mr
.
Bantam
corkscrewed
his
way
through
the
crowd
and
welcomed
him
with
ecstasy
.
‘
My
dear
Sir
,
I
am
highly
honoured
.
Ba
-
ath
is
favoured
.
Mrs
.
Dowler
,
you
embellish
the
rooms
.
I
congratulate
you
on
your
feathers
.
Re
-
markable
!
’
‘
Anybody
here
?
’
inquired
Dowler
suspiciously
.
‘
Anybody
!
The
ELITE
of
Ba
-
ath
.
Mr
.
Pickwick
,
do
you
see
the
old
lady
in
the
gauze
turban
?
’
