omen whose soaring superiority she unenviously felt.

As it seemed unbefitting as yet to interrupt their conversation, Gerald
looked around him in search of acquaintances whom to present to Aurora
while waiting.

Balm de Breze first met his eye--the vicomte was Antonia's landlord--but
Gerald discriminated against him. He next spied Hamilton Spencer and
Carlo Guerra, both genial fellows, left Aurora's side for an instant and
brought them up.

Aurora called back her attention and gave it to them. A certain success
of smiles and bright eyes she was almost sure to have, with men. Gerald
went off to get her some tea, took it to her, and finding her in the
midst of a sufficiently lively time with her new acquaintances, returned
to Antonia's niece at the tea-table for a chat and cup of tea. While
hearing the news from this unassuming elderly girl, he could keep an eye
on Mrs. Hawthorne at a distance, and catch any facial signal for help.

Aurora was drinking her tea, holding her cup like a real lady, with her
little finger delicately curled back. Aurora's figure stood out from
among those surrounding her like a thing of a different make, an earthen
jar among glass vases, a Swede among Japanese.

Aurora was out of place, it could not be blinked; and that she was so
visible, in her able-bodied comeliness, her supremacy of dimples, her
extremely good corset, increased the offense. So did also the native
assurance of her eye--which had something at all times of a jovial
sea-captain, with his foot on his own deck.

Gerald looked from her to Antonia, slightly uneasy. Antonia's face had
characteristics of a man's, but along with them indications above all
feminine. Power and caprice in the great woman went linked. He saw her
while listening to the princess turn her head toward the quarter of the
room tinctured by Aurora's unmodified presence, as if taking account of
the voice and accent of the stranger in her house.

This seemed to him his opportunity, and excusing himself from Miss
Grangeon, he started toward Aurora.

"There are more ways than one of skinning a cat!" came floating to him
in Aurora's deep-piled voice, borne on her frank laugh, as he
approached.

He found her having a very good time, but ready to call an end to it and
go to be presented.

"I'm awfully nervous!" she whispered to Gerald, but that was a manner of
speech. Aurora's nerves were author-proof. She meant that she was
impressed by the greatness of t