midnight
Everything blended in the picture she had made for herself , and the picture was perfect to behold . But , unfortunately , the person whom it had been created chiefly to impress was missing . Druro had not come . The bridge tournament waned to an end , and the dainty and expensive prizes were awarded ; the guests flowed in a gentle , happy tide to the supper marquee and partook of such a collation of aspics and salads , and soufflés and truffles , and such a divine brew of cup and amazing brand of cocktails as Wankelo had never before dreamed of in its philosophy ; then back they ebbed , more happily and hilariously than they had flowed , to the ballroom , where , on the stroke of midnight , the special string orchestra from Salisbury strung out sweet , tremolo opening bars of the first waltz . And Druro had not come ! Mrs. Hading gracefully surrendered herself to the arms of a great man who had been obliging enough to drop in accidentally by the evening train from Buluwayo , and , floating down the room , opened the ball . Her partner was a very great man indeed , both in South African and English politics , and it was a feather of no small jauntiness in Marice Hading 's cap that she had been able to secure him for the vacant seat at her supper-table and afterward beguile him to the ballroom and into asking her to dance .