Diamonds glistened round her perfect throat, upon her head rested a
magnificent tiara of the same stones, her hands flashed as if touched
with living fire. She might have stood as a figure of Undine--as
beautiful and as soulless.
All around her the little band of courtiers thronged ever-changing, and
passing on to the ball-room as others eagerly took their place.
Half-past twelve struck, and she grew more impatient; the blue eyes
sparkled frostily, the red lips became more tightly set.
"Lady Merivale looks riled," Mortimer Shelton said to his partner as
they passed her. "You can see that by the sweetness of the smile with
which she has just favoured Hadley. She wishes him anywhere--I know.
Funny thing about you ladies! the madder you are with one poor
dev--fellow, the sweeter and deadlier you are to the rest of us."
His partner laughed; she was a bright little brunette, flushed with the
dance, and thoroughly happy.
"Why should we wear our hearts upon our sleeves for cynics such as you
to peck at?" she replied. "The art of dissembling is one of our few
privileges. But do you think the Countess is angry? She is so
beautiful."
"Marvellous!" exclaimed the cynic, raising his eyebrows. "Dear Lady
Chetwold, is it possible that I hear one beautiful woman praise
another's looks?"
The little lady flushed.
"It would be a greater marvel still if you men gave us credit for just a
little generosity. But, tell me Mr. Shelton, where is Adrien Leroy?"
"My dear lady," said Shelton, with a wicked twinkle in his eyes, "if I
knew that Lady Merivale would be down on me like the proverbial load of
bricks. He was to have been here; but his movements are as uncertain as
her ladyship's smiles. See, she has fairly extinguished poor
Hadley--drowned in sweetness!"
"You are a horror," laughed his companion as the waltz came to an end.
"I shall be quite afraid of you in the future--I'd no idea you were so
cynical."
"I could never be cynical with you," he said gallantly. "By the way,
have you seen Prince Pfowsky to-night?"
"Yes," said Lady Chetwold, "I am engaged to him for the next dance--if
he remembers it. He is always so forgetful."
"'Put not your trust in princes,'" quoted Shelton. "But if his Highness
should be so ungrateful, perhaps you will allow me the pleasure----"
"Certainly not," she retorted brightly; "Cæsar or nothing!"