worth did not speak, but stood gazing upon her blankly. Her beauty
had struck him dumb.

She made a little gesture with her hand and moved on. He followed,
without a word, by the marble faun, through the lifted curtains, and
into the presence of Olympia, who was walking up and down the Gobelin
carpet, with the light of a Venetian chandelier falling over her.

She was becoming impatient for the arrival of her guests. Yet the room
seemed peopled fully; for, on every hand, mirrors that seemed framed in
a network of gold, threw back and duplicated the group that stood there,
the rich coloring of the draperies, two vases of Malachite and Sevres,
the gifts of emperors, and the carpet, where masses of blossoms seemed
starting into fresh bloom, wherever a footstep trod them down.

"Mr. Hepworth!" cried Olympia; "my good American friend! This is a
happiness!"

Hepworth bowed over the white hand she held out; but did not kiss it, as
she might have expected, being used to all sorts of homage.

She looked at him in pleasant astonishment, dropped her hand with a
faint laugh, and turned to the young girl.

"Caroline, you have never seen Mr. Hepworth, I think."

"Closs, Hepworth Closs, dear lady; you forget."

"Do I? Well, it is very likely, though, I am sure, we always called you
Hepworth; but that's nothing; in our Bohemian set we generally preferred
the given name, and sometimes only took half of that. Ah, ho! here come
our friends at last!"

The curtain was flung back, revealing what seemed a crowd in the hall,
which soon came forward, with little ceremony, and some rather riotous
noise.

Olympia was in her element now. Heart and soul she loved society, and
all these persons were picked people of her own choice--brilliant
persons in their various capacities, each bringing a store of wit or
some accomplishment to swell the general gaiety. Artists, dilettanti
noblemen, epicures, and persons who would have accompanied Orpheus in
all his explorations for the music he could give them.

Of course, there was high mirth and some sparkling wit among a group
like this, in which several females mingled brilliantly, and sang like
sirens after Olympia had set them the example. These were professional,
of course, but wonderfully clever, and talked charmingly, as women who
are reckless of criticism usually do; but in all that was said, a
certain vein of doubtful license sometimes brought the color to
Caroline's cheek. She could not