Bowling Green, then, was in a flutter that night.

Chapman's house was brilliantly lighted, and carriages began to arrive and set down their gaily-attired occupants ere St.Paul's clock had struck nine.

Then there was such a tripping of delicately turned little feet, such a flashing of underskirts, such a witching of perfumed silks and satins, such a display of white arms and white shoulders, as each bevy of beauties vaulted up the steps and were bowed into the house by the polite Mr.Bowles.Bowles felt himself an important element in the dignity of the family that night.

His mistress had got him a new blue coat with large brass buttons, and a white waistcoat that reached nearly to his knees, and gave him the appearance of a huge ball of snow surmounted by an illuminated globe painted black.
Bowles had delivered most of the invitations, and firmly believed that his mistress was indebted to him for the success of her ball, inasmuch as he had solicited guests worthy of her favor.

Nor was he sure that the ball was not given by his mistress to show him off in his new clothes.
Bowles had a bow and a smile for each of the guests.