About an hour had passed since the guests arrived and settled into their rooms. Mrs. Cox appeared for a brief moment in the midst of all the rushing and handed out so many tasks that we couldn't have been bored even for a single minute.
My new shoes were squeezing my feet, and exhaustion had begun to wash over me thanks to the lack of sleep. I could hardly wait for this evening to be over, even though it hadn't even truly started yet.
We carried the silver trays into the ballroom one after another, set them on the tables, and covered the delicate bite-sized foods with fine silk cloths. I couldn't imagine anyone actually getting full from these—they were more like samples than real dishes. We hauled dozens of bottles of champagne and wine up from the cellar, opened quite a few, and filled the glasses arranged on the trays.
