gown. Am I not right?"

Anne confessed that Madame Celeste had made it.

"Celeste, I meant. How could I be so stupid? But it is two long years
since I laid eyes on Bond Street. A humbler person, plain Mrs.
Barclay, sends out my gowns. What do you think, dear Miss Percy, shall
I look provincial, second-rate, amongst all these lucky people of
fashion?"

"You are lovely and your gown is quite perfect," said Anne warmly,
and then the two girls went down-stairs arm in arm, vowing eternal
friendship. Miss Ogilvy professed a deep interest in the poet,
declared that she had begged her obdurate papa time and again to call
upon and reclaim him; and Anne, who now detested Lady Mary, was
resolved to further her new friend's interests with Lord Hunsdon. He
joined them at the foot of the staircase and escorted them to a little
inner balcony above the saloon. There was no danger of interference
from Lady Mary, who was to perform, or from Lady Hunsdon, who occupied
the chair of state in the front row.

They were late and looked down upon a brilliant scene. Not even a
dowager wore black, and the young women, married and single, were in
every hue, primary and intermediate. Almost as many wore their hair
_a la Victoria_ as in the more becoming curls, for loyalty, so long
dead and forgotten, was become the rage since the young Queen had
raised the corpse. But they softened the severity of the coiffure with
wreaths, and feathers, and fillets, and even coquettish little lace
laps, filled with flowers. The men were equally fine in modish coats
and satin waistcoats; narrow and severe or deep and ruffled neckties
but one degree removed from the stock, or in flowing collars _a la
Byron_. Their hair was parted in the middle and puffed out at the
side; not a few wore a flat band of whisker that looked like the strap
of the condemned. Both Hunsdon and Warner shaved, or Anne would have
tolerated neither.

There was a platform at the end of the saloon, with curtains at the
back separating it from a small withdrawing-room, and it had been
tastefully embellished with rugs, jars of gorgeous flowers, a reading
stand, a harp and a piano.

"Who will sway over the harp?" asked Miss Ogilvy humorously.

"Lady Mary. Ah! They are about to begin."

A fine applause greeted Miss Bargarny, who executed the overture to
Semiramide quite as well as it deserved. After the clapping was over
and she had obligingly given an encore, she remained at the piano, and