A great choice is upon me now before Her Majesty's Ball, a decision which shall be scrutinized by my closest friends and curious acquaintances. An error in judgement shall draw snickers and comparisons to a certain society of overdressed Englishmen, but the reward of the proper disposition shall be quite measurable.
And so the matter lies before me: white or yellow stockings?
While I ponder about it, consider this: when your light shines through, it brightens everything in your presence like the faithful shepherds and shepherdesses here:
Eventually, one works up enough grace and courage to go it alone on the floor, as shown beautifully by Philippa Waite:
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