on of any change in her life and habits. At length,
after many appeals, and expostulations, and entreaties, and little
scenes, the second year of the widowhood having advanced some months,
it was decided that Lady Roehampton should re-enter society, and the
occasion on which this was to take place was no mean one.

Lady Montfort was to give a ball early in June, and Royalty itself
was to be her guests. The entertainments at Montfort House were always
magnificent, but this was to exceed accustomed splendour. All the world
was to be there, and all the world, who were not invited, were in as
much despair as if they had lost their fortune or their character.

Lady Roehampton had a passion for light, provided the light was not
supplied by gas or oil. Her saloons, even when alone, were always
brilliantly illuminated. She held that the moral effect of such a
circumstance on her temperament was beneficial, and not slight. It is
a rare, but by no means a singular, belief. When she descended into
her drawing-room on the critical night, its resplendence was some
preparation for the scene which awaited her. She stood for a moment
before the tall mirror which reflected her whole person. What were her
thoughts? What was the impression that the fair vision conveyed?

Her countenance was grave, but it was not sad. Myra had now completed,
or was on the point of completing, her thirtieth year. She was a woman
of transcendent beauty; perhaps she might justly be described as the
most beautiful woman then alive. Time had even improved her commanding
mien, the graceful sweep of her figure and the voluptuous undulation
of her shoulders; but time also had spared those charms which are
more incidental to early youth, the splendour of her complexion, the
whiteness of her teeth, and the lustre of her violet eyes. She had cut
off in her grief the profusion of her dark chestnut locks, that once
reached to her feet, and she wore her hair as, what was then and perhaps
is now called, a crop, but it was luxuriant in natural quantity and rich
in colour, and most effectively set off her arched brow, and the oval
of her fresh and beauteous cheek. The crop was crowned to-night by a
coronet of brilliants.

"Your carriage is ready, my lady," said a servant; "but there is a
gentleman below who has brought a letter for your ladyship, and which,
he says, he must personally deliver to you, madam. I told him your
ladyship was going out and could not see him, b