Ten o’clock
Though there were , so to speak , no women , no bright dresses showing arms and shoulders and breaking the monotony of black coats with a blaze of jewels and flowers , still the table was not without colour . There was the violet cassock of the Nuncio with his broad silk sash , the purple _ Chechia _ of Mourad Bey , and the red tunic of the Papal Guard with its gold collar , blue embroideries , and gold braid on the breast , decorated also with the huge brilliant cross of the Legion of Honour , which the young Italian had received that very morning , the President thinking it proper to reward the successful delivery of the Cardinal 's hat . Scattered about , too , were ribbons green , blue , and red , and the silvery gleam and sparkling stars of decorations and orders . Ten o'clock . The dinner is almost over , but not one of the flowers elaborately arranged round plates and dishes has been disturbed , there have been no raised voices or animated gestures . Yet the fare is excellent at the Padovani mansion , one of the few houses in Paris where they still have wine . The dinner betrays the presence in the house of an epicure , and the epicure is not the Duchess , who , like all leaders of French fashion , thinks the dinner good if she has on a becoming dress and the table is carefully and tastefully decorated .