all these
fair and noble faces there was not one so beautiful as Leone's.

She herself was quite unconscious of the admiration she excited; she did
not see how the opera-glasses were turned to her face; she could not
hear people asking: "Who is that with Lord Chandos? What a beautiful
face, what a lovely girl! Who is she?" Lord Chandos saw it, and was not
only proud, but flattered by it.

"My mother will yield at once when she sees her," he thought; "she will
be pleased that the most beautiful woman in England is my wife."

He made no introductions, though many of his friends bowed to him, with
a secret hope that he would ask them into his box. But he had arranged
his own plans. His mother--the proud, exclusive, haughty Countess of
Lanswell--should be the one to introduce his beautiful wife to the
world; that of itself would be a passport for her. So that he was
careful not to ask any one into his box, or even to exchange a word with
any of the people he knew.

From the time the curtain was drawn up until the opera ended, Leone was
in a trance. Quite suddenly she had entered this new and beautiful world
of music and art--a world so bright and dazzling that it bewildered her.

Lord Chandos watched her with keen delight--her lustrous eyes, the
intense face, the parted lips.

The opera was one of the most beautiful--"Norma"--and the part of Norma
was taken by the greatest _prima donna_ of her time. Leone's eyes filled
with tears as those passionate reproaches were sung; she knew nothing of
the language, but the music was full of eloquence for her. She turned
suddenly to her husband; her whole soul seemed awake and thrilling with
dramatic instinct.

"Lance," she said in a low voice, "I could do that; I do not mean that I
could sing so well, but I could feel the jealousy she feels. I could
utter those reproaches. Something seems to have awoke in my soul that
never lived before; it is all new to me, yet I understand it all; my
heart is on fire as I listen."

"And you have enjoyed it?" he said, when the curtain fell on the last
grand scene.

She answered him with a low sigh of perfect content.

So it was that to her her wedding-day became the most marked day of her
life, for on it she awoke to the knowledge of the world of art and
music.

There was nothing for it but to remain at the hotel.

Lord Chandos merely laughed at the notion of his parents holding out
against him. He was wonderfully sanguine.

"We shal