Meanwhile she was looking for her husband and her rival, who had both

disappeared. And presently her vigilance was rewarded. They reappeared,

locked in each other's arms, and whirling around in the bewildering

waltz. And she watched them, all unconscious that she herself was the

"observed of all observers," the "cynosure of eyes," the star of that

"goodlie company." All who were not waltzing, and many who were

waltzing, were talking of Sybil.

"Who is she? What is she? Where did she come from? Does any one know

her?" were some of the questions that were asked on all sides.

"She outshines every one in the room," whispered a "Crusader" to a

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"Quaker."

"I have heard of 'making sunshine in a shady place,' but she 'makes

sunshine' even in a lighted place!" observed Tecumseh.

"Who, then, is she?" inquired William Penn.

"No one knows," answered Richard Coeur de Lion.

"But what character does she take?" asked Lucretia Borgia.

"I should think it was a 'Priestess of the sun,'" surmised Rebecca the

Jewess.

"No! I should think she has taken the character of the 'Princess

Creusa,' the daughter of Creon, King of Corinth, and the victim of Medea

the Sorceress. Creusa perished, you know, in the robe of magic presented

to her as a wedding gift from Medea, and designed to burn the wearer to

ashes! Yes, decidedly it is Creusa, in her death robe of fire!"

persisted the 'gentle Desdemona,' who had just joined the motley group.

"You are every one of you mistaken. I heard her announced when she

entered--the 'Spirit of Fire,'" said Pocahontas, with an air of

authority.

"That is her assumed character! Now to find out her real one."

"Shall I whisper my opinion? Mind, it is only an opinion, with no data

for a foundation," put in Charlemagne.

"Yes; do tell us who you take her to be," was the unanimous request of

the circle.

"Then I think she is our fair hostess!"

"Oh-h-h!" exclaimed all the ladies.

"Why do you think so?" inquired several of the gentlemen.

"Because the correspondence is so perfect that it strikes me at once,

as it ought to strike everybody."

"How? how?"

"The correspondence between her nature and her costume, I mean! The

outward glow expresses the inward heat. Believe me, Sybil Berners has

been masquerading all her life, and now for the first time appears in

her true character--a 'Fire Queen!'"

Such gossip as this was going on all over the room, but only in this

circle was the secret of Sybil's character discovered. But soon this

discovery found its way through the crowd, and in half an hour after the

secret was first revealed, every one in the room knew of it, except the

person most concerned. Sybil was surrounded by a circle of admirers,

each one of whom, even by the slightest change of tone or manner,

revealed their knowledge, for it would have been as much against the

laws of etiquette and courtesy to recognize her before she was willing

to be recognized, as it would have been to have unmasked her before she

was ready to unmask. So they were very guarded in their manners--even

more guarded than they needed to be, for Sybil was not critical, she was

indeed scarcely observant of them. She was too deeply absorbed in

watching her adored husband and her abhorred rival, as, twined in each

other's embrace, they swam around and around in the dizzy waltz,

appearing, disappearing, and reappearing as they made the grand circle

of the saloon.




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