"Tom, you rogue," stopped at this, and the Count came up. He had a
white velvet suit, covered over with stars and orders, a neat modest
wig and bag, and peach-coloured silk-stockings with silver clasps.
The lady in the mask gave a start as his Excellency came forward.
"Law, mother, don't squeege so," said Tom. The poor woman was
trembling in every limb, but she had presence of mind to "squeege"
Tom a great deal harder; and the latter took the hint, I suppose,
and was silent.
The splendid Count came up. Ye gods, how his embroidery glittered
in the lamps! What a royal exhalation of musk and bergamot came
from his wig, his handkerchief, and his grand lace ruffles and
frills! A broad yellow riband passed across his breast, and ended
at his hip in a shining diamond cross--a diamond cross, and a
diamond sword-hilt! Was anything ever seen so beautiful? And might
not a poor woman tremble when such a noble creature drew near to
her, and deigned, from the height of his rank and splendour, to look
down upon her? As Jove came down to Semele in state, in his habits
of ceremony, with all the grand cordons of his orders blazing about
his imperial person--thus dazzling, magnificent, triumphant, the
great Galgenstein descended towards Mrs.
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