"Let me kiss your hand, madame," said the handsome young fellow, lifting the jewelled fingers in his own. "I have heard that my father had once that honour. Do not put me below him;" and with the words he touched with his warm lips the long white fingers.
Her laugh rang merrily through the dim room, and she answered--"You are Dick Hyde's own son--nothing else. I see that"--and she drew the young man towards the light and looked with a steady pleasure into his smiling face as she asked-"What brought you here this morning, sir?"
"Madame, I have heard my father speak of you; I have seen you; can you wonder that I desired to know you? This morning I met Miss Van Ariens, and when she said she was coming here, I found myself unable to resist the temptation of coming with her."
"Let me tell you something, aunt. I think Lieutenant Hyde can be of great service to us. He took part in several noble English weddings last year, and he offers his advice in our consultation to-day."
"But where is Cornelia? I thought she would come with you."
"She will be here in a few minutes. I saw her half-an-hour ago."
"What a beautiful girl she has become!" said madame.
"She is an angel," said Hyde.
Angelica laughed. "The man who calls a woman an angel has never had any sisters," she answered; "but, however, she has beauty enough to set young hearts ablaze. I like the girl, and I wonder not that others do the same."
Even as she spoke Cornelia entered. There was a little flush and hurry on her face; but oh, how innocent and joyous it was! Quick-glancing, sweetly smiling, she entered the musky, scented parlour, and in her white robe and white hat stood like a lily in its light and gloom. And when she turned to Hyde an ineffable charm and beauty illumed her countenance. "How glad I am to see you!" she said, and the very ring of gladness was in her voice. "And how strange that we should meet here!"
"That is so," replied Madame Jacobus. "One can never see where the second little bird comes from."
"Am I late, madame? Surely your clock is wrong."
"My clock is never wrong, Cornelia, A Dutch clock will always go just about so. Come, now, sit down, and let us talk of such follies as weddings and wedding gowns."
In this conversation Hyde triumphantly redeemed his promise of assistance. He could describe with a delightful accuracy--or inaccuracy-- the lovely toilets and pretty accessories of the high English wedding feasts of the previous year. And in some subtle way he threw into these descriptions such a glamour of romance, such backgrounds of old castles and chiming bells, of noble dames glittering with gems, and village maids scattering roses, of martial heroes, and rejoicing lovers, all moving in an atmosphere of song and sunshine, that the little party sat listening, entranced, with sympathetic eyes drinking in his wonderful descriptions.