t-me-nots and white heath; a string of pearls was twisted in her
fair hair, and another round her white throat.

"If he does not fall in love with her," said Lady Cambrey to herself,
"it will be because he has no admiration left in him for any one except
his dairy-maid."

Lady Lanswell had been very successful in her diplomacy. She had spoken
of the concert before her son, who had received an invitation, but said
nothing about his going. He listened in silence, wondering if she would
ask him to go with her, saying to himself that he should decline, for he
did not like concert-going. Then, as she did not ask him, he began to
feel piqued over it and wonder why.

After a short time he volunteered to go, and my lady took it very
coolly, reminding him of how often he had grown tired of a hot
concert-room. Then he resolved to go and made arrangements accordingly,
his mother smiling sweetly all the time. When all was settled, and he
had quitted the room, my lady laughed quietly. It was wonderful with
what bland sweetness and fine tact she managed men. She could lead her
son as though he were deaf, blind, and dumb, yet of all men he believed
himself most firm and secure in his opinion.

Heaven help the man who falls helplessly into the hands of a clever
woman!

CHAPTER XXV.

THE INTRODUCTION.

If Lady Lanswell had purposely designed the meeting between her son and
the beautiful blonde to have taken place in the most picturesque spot in
Europe, she could not have chosen better. The great _salon_ of the
Palazzo Golza had, in former days, been used as a royal audience-room;
the noblest princes in Rome had met there, and had given audience to the
grandest nobles. It was a superb apartment; there was a background of
purple tapestry from which the blonde loveliness of the English girl
shone resplendent as a snow-drop on a black ground. There were many
beautiful women present; the Princess Ainla, whose dark beauty was the
wonder of all who saw it; the famous American belle, Miss Sedmon, whose
auburn hair resembled that given by the old masters to the Madonna; but
there was not one in that vast assembly who could vie with Lady Marion.

The Countess of Lanswell, with her son, was one of the last to enter the
_salon_; with one keen, comprehensive glance the countess took in, as it
were, the whole situation; she saw the pure, proud face of Lady Erskine,
saw that she was seated in the very place where her beauty was seen t