As it was a masquerade, a dinner and reception would be quite silly, Hermey had declared, for how ridiculous would they appear standing in their masks and greeting guests they weren't supposed to recognize when they had just sat next to them at table? Dolly, in an unusually obliging temper, had agreed to substitute an unmasking at the midnight supper.

Callie entered arm in arm with her sister, but soon lost Venus to the music of a country dance. She seated herself on the row of chairs against the wall, but she was not left alone for long: an Egyptian Mamluk—Major Sturgeon in his regimentals and a turban—found her almost immediately. This was no great feat of detection. Among the several sultanas present, Callie was the only one with red hair and one plume that was determined to keep drooping down over her nose in spite of Hermey pausing to straighten it several times.

The major was in an amorous mood. He bent over her fingers, looking quite imposing in his black mask and clean-shaven jaw. "An exotic!" he murmured. "Will you dance with me, lovely odalisque?"

She accepted, reckoning it best to humor him now, as she would be otherwise occupied in a short time. Besides, she found that wearing a mask went a great way toward making one feel less shy in public. There was something to be said for the protocol of ostriches. She entered the dance for once without being too nervous to enjoy it.

He returned her a little breathless after two sets, with her plume askew and the gauze drifting loose from several places that she could see through the mask and several more that she suspected from the attention that her Mamluk seemed to give her bodice. She put her hand up to check the safety of the note, and his eyes behind the black silk followed her motion. He grinned and bent to her ear.

"My God, my lady—do you wish to slay me?"

She did wish to be rid of him, but not quite that permanently. "I must go straighten my… my plume," she said. "If you will excuse me."

"You look charmingly just as you are," he said, giving her elbow a squeeze.

"Thank you," Callie said. She caught a glimpse of Sir Thomas taking Hermey toward the stairs. "But there, my sister is going down too. I must speak to her. If you will bring me a lemonade when I return, I would be much obliged." Without waiting for a reply, she deserted her fiancé as rapidly as the crowd would allow.

She hurried down the stairs and found Sir Thomas lingering outside the room set aside for the ladies to repair their toilettes. Instead of joining Hermey, she went to Sir Thomas and put her arm through his, walking with determination down the spine passage to the servants' stairs. He allowed her to lead him, though she could see that he was rather ruff led.