lding his
niece's hand, entered the room. Miss Hastings rose to receive them. He
led Pauline to her, and in the kindest manner possible introduced them
to each other.

"I will leave you together," he said. "Pauline will show you your rooms,
Miss Hastings; and I hope that you will soon feel happy, and quite at
home with us."

Sir Oswald quitted the library, leaving the two ladies looking in
silence at each other.

CHAPTER III.

"YOUR GOOD SOCIETY IS ALL DECEIT."

Miss Hastings had been prepared to see a hoiden, an awkward, unfledged
schoolgirl, one who, never having seen much of good society, had none of
the little graces and charms that distinguish young ladies. She had
expected to see a tall, gaunt girl, with red hands, and a general air of
not knowing what to do with herself--that was the idea she had formed.
She gazed in wonder at the reality--a magnificent figure--a girl whose
grand, pale, statuesque beauty was something that could never be
forgotten. There was nothing of the boarding-school young lady about
her; no acquired graces. She was simply magnificent--no other word could
describe her. Miss Hastings, as she looked at her, thought involuntarily
of the graceful lines, the beautiful curves, the grand, free grace of
the world-renowned Diana of the Louvre; there was the same arched,
graceful neck, the same royal symmetry, the same harmony of outline.

In one of the most celebrated art galleries of Rome Miss Hastings
remembered to have seen a superb bust of Juno; as she looked at her new
pupil, she could almost fancy that its head had been modeled from hers.
Pauline's head was royal in its queenly contour; the brow low, white,
and rounded at the temples; the hair, waving in lines of inexpressible
beauty, was loosely gathered together and fastened behind with a
gleaming silver arrow. The eyes were perhaps the most wonderful feature
in that wonderful face; they were dark as night itself, somewhat in hue
like a purple heartsease, rich, soft, dreamy, yet at times all fire, all
brightness, filled with passion more intense than any words, and shining
then with a strange half-golden light. The brows were straight, dark,
and beautiful; the lips crimson, full, and exquisitely shaped; the mouth
looked like one that could persuade or contemn--that could express
tenderness or scorn, love or pride, with the slightest play of the lips.

Every attitude the girl assumed was full of unconscious grace. She did
not