prevailed, and its gatherings recalled--not without some conscious
effort on the part of the hostess--the days of Holland House, and Lady
Palmerston. To its smaller dinner parties, which were the object of so
many social ambitions, nobody was admitted who could not bring a
personal contribution. Dukes had no more claim than other people, but as
most of the twenty-eight were blood-relations of the house, and some
Dukes are agreeable, they took their turn. Cabinet Ministers, Viceroys,
Ambassadors, mingled with the men of letters and affairs. There was
indeed a certain old-fashioned measure in it all. To be merely
notorious--even though you were amusing--was not passport enough. The
hostess--a beautiful tall woman, with the brow of a child, a quick
intellect, and an amazing experience of life--created round her an
atmosphere that was really the expression of her own personality;
fastidious, and yet eager; cold, and yet steeped in intellectual
curiosities and passions. Under the mingled stimulus and restraint of
it, men and women brought out the best that was in them. The talk was
good, and nothing--neither the last violinist, nor the latest
_danseuse_--was allowed to interfere with it. And while the dress and
jewels of the women were generally what a luxurious capital expects and
provides, you might often find some little girl in a dyed frock--with
courage, charm and breeding--the centre of the scene.

Elizabeth in white, and wearing some fine jewels which had been her
mother's, had found herself placed on the left of her host, with an
ex-Viceroy of India on her other hand. Anderson, who was on the opposite
side of the table, watched her animation, and the homage that was
eagerly paid her by the men around her. Those indeed who had known her
of old were of opinion that whereas she had always been an agreeable
companion, Lady Merton had now for some mysterious reason blossomed into
a beauty. Some kindling change had passed over the small features.
Delicacy and reserve were still there, but interfused now with a
shimmering and transforming brightness, as though some flame within
leapt intermittently to sight.

Elizabeth more than held her own with the ex-Viceroy, who was a person
of brilliant parts, accustomed to be flattered by women. She did not
flatter him, and he was reduced in the end to making those efforts for
himself, which he generally expected other people to make for him.
Elizabeth's success with him drew the att