try house, and this professional beauty was the acknowledged
queen of her tribe. Her hair shone like gold, and it had been dressed by
a maid who had acquired her art at the hands of a famous Parisian
coiffeur; her complexion, of a delicate ivory, was tinted with the blush
of a rose; her lips were the Cupid-bow lips which Sir Joshua Reynolds
loved to paint. Naturally graceful, her figure was indebted to her
modiste for every adventitious aid the art of modern dressmaking can
bestow. Nell knew too little of dress to fully appreciate the exquisite
perfection of the _toilette de la danse_; she could only admire and
wonder. It was of a soft cream silk, rendered still softer in appearance
by cobweb lace, in which, as if caught by the filmy strands, as in a
net, were lustrous pearls. Diamonds glittered in the hair which served
them as a setting of gold. Her very gloves were unlike those of the
other women, and seemed to fit the long and slender hands like a fourth
skin.

"How beautiful!" she said involuntarily, and scarcely aware that she had
spoken aloud.

The man who was sitting beside her smiled.

"Like a picture, is she not?" he said. "In fact, I never see her but I
am reminded of a Lely or a Lawrence; one of those full-length pictures
in Hampton Court, you know!"

"I don't know," said Nell. "I've never been there."

"Well, you won't think it a fair comparison when you do see them," he
said; "for there isn't one of them half as beautiful as Lady Luce."

"What is her name?" asked Nell, who had not caught it.

He did not hear the question, for the music had struck up again, and
with a bow he went off to his next partner. It was evident to Nell that
the beauty was not known to Lady Maltby, for Nell saw the other lady
introducing them. Nell felt half fascinated by the new arrival, and sat
and watched her, looking at her as intently as one gazes at something
quite new and strange which has swung suddenly into one's own ken.

Nell was engaged for that dance, but her partner did not turn up. She
was not sorry, for she wanted to rest; the room was hot, and, though she
was by no means tired, she was not eager to dance the waltz--unless it
were to be danced with Drake. She was sitting not very far from the
window; some considerate soul had opened it a little, and Nell got up
and went to it and looked out. It opened onto a wide terrace; the stars
were shining brightly, the night air came to her softly and wooingly.
How nice