Ishmael at the Ball

Yes! welcome, right welcome--and give us your hand,
You shall not stand "out in the cold"!
If new friends are true friends, I can't understand
Why hearts should hold out till they're old;
Then come with all welcome and fear not to fling
Reserve to the winds and the waves,
For thou never canst live, the cold-blooded thing
Society makes of its slaves.

--M.F. Tupper.

A very handsome young fellow was Ishmael Worth as he entered the drawing
room that evening. He had attained his full height, over six feet, and
he had grown broad-shouldered and full-chested, with the prospect of
becoming the athletic man of majestic presence that he appeared in riper
years. His hair and eyes were growing much darker; you might now call
the first dark brown and the last dark gray. His face was somewhat
fuller; but his forehead was still high, broad, and massive, and the
line of his profile was clear-cut, distinct, and classic; his lips were
full and beautifully curved; and, to sum up, he still retained the
peculiar charm of his countenance--the habit of smiling only with his
eyes. How intense is the light of a smile that is confined to the eyes
only. His dress is not worth notice. All gentlemen dress alike for
evening parties; all wear the stereotyped black dress coat, light kid
gloves, etc., etc., etc., and he wore the uniform for such cases made
and provided. Only everything that Ishmael put on looked like the
costume of a prince.

He entered the lighted and crowded drawing room very hesitatingly,
looking over that splendid but confused assemblage until he caught the
eye of Judge Merlin, who immediately came forward to meet him, saying in
a low tone: "I am glad you changed your mind and decided to come down. You must
become acquainted with some of my acquaintances. You must make friends,
Ishmael, as well as gain knowledge, if you would advance yourself. Come
along!"