almost gloomy,--but now
he considered it charming, and wondered he had missed so many of its
good points before.

And when the evening for Lady Winsleigh's "crush" came,--he looked
regretfully round the lovely luxurious drawing-room with its bright
fire, deep easy chairs, books, and grand piano, and wished he and his
wife could remain at home in peace. He glanced at his watch--it was ten
o'clock. There was no hurry--he had not the least intention of arriving
at Winsleigh House too early. He knew what the effect of Thelma's
entrance would be--and he smiled as he thought of it. He was waiting for
her now,--he himself was ready in full evening dress--and remarkably
handsome he looked. He walked up and down restlessly for a minute or
so,--then taking up a volume of Keats, he threw himself into an easy
chair and soon became absorbed. His eyes were still on the printed page,
when a light touch on his shoulder startled him,--a soft, half-laughing
voice inquired--"Philip! Do I please you?"

He sprang up and faced her,--but for a moment could not speak. The
perfection of her beauty had never ceased to arouse his wonder and
passionate admiration,--but on this night, as she stood before him,
arrayed in a simple, trailing robe of ivory-tinted velvet, with his
family diamonds flashing in a tiara of light on her hair, glistening
against the whiteness of her throat and rounded arms, she looked
angelically lovely--so radiant, so royal, and withal so innocently
happy, that, wistfully gazing at her, and thinking of the social clique
into which she was about to make her entry, he wondered vaguely whether
he was not wrong to take so pure and fair a creature among the false
glitter and reckless hypocrisy of modern fashion and folly. And so he
stood silent, till Thelma grew anxious.

"Ah, you are not satisfied!" she said plaintively. "I am not as you
wish! There is something wrong."

He drew her closely into his arms, kissing her with an almost pathetic
tenderness.

"Thelma, my love, my sweet one!" and his strong voice trembled. "You do
not know--how should you? what I think of you! Satisfied? Pleased? Good
Heavens--what little words those are to express my feelings! I can tell
you how you look, for nothing can ever make _you_ vain. You are
beautiful! . . . you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, and
you look your very best tonight. But you are more than beautiful--you
are good and pure and true, while society is--But why sh