CHAPTER XIV

THE DE LANCEY BALL


The De Lancey mansion, then one of the most famous houses in New York,
was on the Bloomingdale Road, and the drive out Bowery Lane ran through
meadow-land and green trees in summer, but over hard-packed snow and ice
in winter, for it was part of the highroad to Albany. So both Grandma
Effingham and Clarissa ordered the fur muffs and hot-water bottles for
the feet placed carefully in the sleigh, which Pompey brought to the
door just as the night watch went down the street, crying in his slow,
bell-like tones, "Eight o'clock, and all's w-e-ll!" Betty, standing
muffled in long cloak and fur hood, on the steps of the house, said to
herself, with a thrill of excitement, "All's well; please God I may say
as much when midnight sounds to-night."

The sleigh was a large, roomy one, with back and front seats, and its
big hood was drawn up and extended like a roof over the top, covering
the heads of its occupants, but open at the sides. Clarissa was seated
first, and well wrapped in the bearskin robes which adorned the sleigh,
and then Betty tripped lightly down to have her little feet bestowed in
a capacious foot-muff, as she carefully tucked her new gown around her
and sat beside Clarissa. Gulian, in full evening dress, with small
clothes, plum-colored satin coat and cocked hat, took possession of the
front seat. Pompey cracked his whip, and the spirited horses were off
with a plunge and bound, as Peter, the irrepressible, shouted from the
doorway, where with grandma he had been an interested spectator of