cer
leaned forward, his sword clanking, his eyes crossed and fixed on a
vague white spot in the distant foyer.

"She is coming! How slowly she moves! What a throng!--There, she
comes, white and sweet like a lily, a flower!" The Prince waved his
hand; his sword clanked again. "No, she doesn't see me; her eyes are
on the ground--and her hair, it gleams like a crown."

The two figures climbing the grand marble stair-case moved forward
slowly, step by step, mingling with the flash and colour of the crowd,
lost for a moment at the bend, then reappearing again. The man,
evidently a general, was magnificent in his uniform; his breast regal
with orders and medals, his grey head held high and his form stiff and
straight. On his arm was the Countess, his daughter.

She clung to him, her lips were smiling and her white robes trailed the
marble behind her. She was like a young queen, charming and gracious,
bowing to right and to left. As the groups drew aside to let her pass,
they whispered together, looking up at the carved balustrade; then the
crowd closed again.

At the top of the stair-case the Prince sprang forward. He greeted the
General hastily, saluting. Then the watchers behind saw how the
Countess paused, hesitated, and then, at a few whispered words from the
Prince, placed her hand on his arm and the two young figures, the white
and the scarlet, disappeared within the doorway.

The violins rose and fell in a dreamy measure. From the sculptured
gallery the sound came mysterious, enchanting, swaying the feet with
the force of its rhythm.

"Not to-night," said the Countess, "No!" She drew herself away from
the arm of the Prince and her lashes drooped over her eyes. "I am
tired--later perhaps, Prince."

Her voice, low and remonstrating, was lost in the swing of the waltz.
With a sudden, swift movement the scarlet and white seemed welded
together, whirling into the vortex of light and of motion.

No word was exchanged. They whirled, gliding, twisting in and out
among the dancers; and suddenly, swiftly, as at a signal, the music
broke into the measure of the mazurka. A cry went up from the throng.
In a twinkling the floor was cleared, the crowd pressed back against
the columns; under the reddish marble of the dome four couples
gathered, poised hand in hand.

The uniforms of the officers glowed in the light, rich and scarlet,
faced with silver and gold. The gowns of their partners were brocade
and ve