eption, dancing, and supper rooms; Devizac furnished the refreshment,
and Dureezie the music. The elite of the city were present. The guests
began to assemble at ten o'clock, and by eleven the rooms were crowded.

Among the guests was he for whom all this pageantry had been got up--the
Viscount Vincent.

With excellent taste, Claudia had on this occasion avoided display in
her own personal appointments. She wore a snow-white, mist-like tulle
over white glace silk, that floated cloud-like around her with every
movement of her graceful form. She wore no jewelry, but upon her head a
simple withe of the cypress vine, whose green leaves and crimson buds
contrasted well with her raven black hair. Yet never in all the splendor
of her richest dress and rarest jewels had she looked more beautiful.
The same good taste that governed her unassuming toilet withheld her
from taking any prominent part in the festivities of the evening. She
was courteous to all, solicitous for the comfort of her guests, yet not
too officious. As if only to do honor to the most distinguished stranger
present, she danced with the Viscount Vincent once; and after that
declined all invitations to the floor. Nor did Lord Vincent dance again.
He seemed to prefer to devote himself to his lovely young hostess for
the evening. The viscount was the lion of the party, and his exclusive
attention to the young heiress could not escape observation. Everyone
noticed and commented upon it. Nor was Claudia insensible to the honor
of being the object of this exclusive devotion from his lordship. She
was flattered, and when Claudia was in this state her beauty became
radiant.

Among those who watched the incipient flirtation commencing between the
viscount and the heiress was Beatrice Middleton. She had come late. She
had had all the children to see properly fed and put to bed before she
could begin to dress herself. And one restless little brother had kept
her by his crib singing songs and telling stories until ten o'clock
before he finally dropped off to sleep, and left her at liberty to go to
her room and dress herself for the ball. Her dress was simplicity
itself--a plain white tarletan with white ribbons; but it well became
the angelic purity of her type of beauty. Her golden ringlets and
sapphire eyes were the only jewels she wore, the roses on her cheeks the
only flowers. When she entered the dancing room she saw four quadrilles
in active progress on the floor;