thoritative from his
long-continued habit of command.

In a small round hat, with his hands in the pockets of an outing-jacket,
matching his knickerbockers in color, he strolled to and fro near his
sister, now encouraging Madame de Thomery, hesitating on the arm of her
instructor, now describing scientific flourishes on the ice, in rivalry
against the crosses dashed off by Madame de Lisieux and Madame de
Nointel--two other patronesses of the orphanage--the most renowned among
all the fashionable skaters. This sort of tourney naturally attracted all
eyes, and the idlers along the outer walks had climbed upon the paling in
order to gain a better view of the evolutions, when suddenly a spectacle
of another kind called their attention to the entrance-gate in their
rear.

Passing through the Porte Dauphine, and driven by a young woman enveloped
in furs, advanced swiftly, over the crisp snow, a light American sleigh,
to which was harnessed a magnificent trotter, whose head and shoulders
emerged, as from an aureole, through that flexible, circular ornament
which the Russians call the 'douga'.

Having passed the last turn of the path, the driver slackened her grasp,
and the horse stopped short before the entrance. His owner, throwing the
reins to a groom perched up behind, sprang lightly to the ground amid a
crowd of curious observers, whose interest was greatly enhanced by the
sight of the odd-looking vehicle.

The late-comer presented her card of invitation to the proper
functionary, and went across the enclosure toward the ladies' salon.

"Ah! there is Zibeline!" cried Madame Desvanneaux, with an affected air.
"Do you know her?" she inquired of the Duchesse de Montgeron.

"Not yet," the Duchess replied. "She did not arrive in Paris until the
end of spring, just at the time I was leaving town for the seashore. But
I know that she says her real name is Mademoiselle de Vermont, and that
she was born in Louisiana, of an old French family that emigrated to the
North, and recently became rich in the fur trade-from which circumstance
Madame de Nointel has wittily named her 'Zibeline.' I know also that she
is an orphan, that she has an enormous fortune, and has successively
refused, I believe, all pretenders who have thus far aspired to her
hand."

"Yes--gamblers, and fortune-hunters, in whose eyes her millions excuse
all her eccentricities."

"Do I understand that she has been presented to you?" asked the Duchess,
surpris