hand with a few
words I could not hear, he drew back a step and began uttering the usual
common-place sentiments of the occasion.

She did not respond. With a splendor of indifference not often seen even
in the manner of our grandest ladies, she waited, opening and shutting
her richly feathered fan, as one who would say, "I know all this has to
be gone through with, therefore I will be patient." But as the moments
passed, and his tone remained unchanged, I could detect a slight gleam
of impatience flash in the depths of her dark eyes, and a change
come into the conventional smile that had hitherto lighted, without
illuminating her countenance. Drawing still further back from the crowd
that was not to be awed from pressing upon her, she looked around as if
seeking a refuge. Her glance fell upon a certain window, with a gleam
of satisfaction. Seeing they would straightway withdraw there, I took
advantage of the moment and made haste to conceal myself behind a
curtain as near that vicinity as possible. In another instant I heard
them approaching.

"You seem to be rather overwhelmed with attention to-night," were the
first words I caught, uttered in Mr. Blake's calmest and most courteous
tones.

"Do you think so?" was the slightly sarcastic reply. "I was just
deciding to the contrary when you came up."

There was a pause. Taking out my knife, I ripped open a seam in the
curtain hanging before me, and looked through. He was eyeing her
intently, a firm look upon his face that made its reserve more marked
than common. I saw him gaze at her handsome head piled with its midnight
tresses amid which the jewels, doubtless of her dead lord, burned with
a fierce and ominous glare, at her smooth olive brow, her partly veiled
eyes where the fire passionately blazed, at her scarlet lips trembling
with an emotion her rapidly flushing cheeks would not allow her to
conceal. I saw his glances fall and embrace her whole elegant form with
its casing of ruby velvet and ornamentation of lace and diamonds, and
an expectant thrill passed through me almost as if I already beheld the
mask of his reserve falling, and the true man flash out in response to
the wooing beauty of this full-blown rose, evidently in waiting for him.
But it died away and a deeper feeling seized me as I saw his glances
return unkindled to her countenance, and heard him say in still more
measured accents than before:

"Is it possible then that the Countess De Mirac can