er, what were her merits? A complexion of lilies
and roses, a head like a steel engraving in an annual, a face expressing
nothing but childish bashfulness, a manner ladylike but constrained, and
a dress of studied simplicity worse than finery.

Lady Martindale spoke of dressing, and conducted her meek shy visitor
up a grand staircase, along a broad gallery, into a large bed-room, into
which the western sun beamed with a dazzling flood of light.

The first use Violet made of her solitude was to look round in amaze at
the size and luxury of her room, wondering if she should ever feel at
home where looking-glasses haunted her with her own insignificance. She
fled from them, to try to cool her cheeks at the open window, and gaze
at the pleasure-ground, which reminded her of prints of Versailles,
by the sparkling fountain rising high in fantastic jets from its stone
basin, in the midst of an expanse of level turf, bordered by terraces
and stone steps, adorned with tall vases of flowers. On the balustrade
stood a peacock, bending his blue neck, and drooping his gorgeous train,
as if he was 'monarch of all he surveyed.'

Poor Violet felt as if no one but peacocks had a right here; and when
she remembered that less than twelve weeks ago the summit of her wishes
had been to go to the Wrangerton ball, it seemed to be a dream, and she
shut her eyes, almost expecting to open them on Annette's face, and the
little attic at home. But then, some one else must have been the fabric
of a vision! She made haste to unclose them, and her heart bounded at
thinking that he was born to all this! She started with joy as his step
approached, and he entered the room.

'Let us look at you,' he said. 'Have you your colour? Ay, plenty of it.
Are you getting tamer, you startled thing?'

'I hope I have not been doing wrong. Lady Martindale asked me to have
some tea. I never heard of such a thing before dinner, but I thought
afterwards it might have been wrong to refuse. Was it!'

He laughed. 'Theodora despises nothing so much as women who drink tea in
the middle of the day.'

'I am so afraid of doing what is unladylike. Your mother offered me
a maid, but I only thought of not giving trouble, and she seemed so
shocked at my undoing my own trunk.'

'No, no,' said he, much diverted; 'she never thinks people can help
themselves. She was brought up to be worshipped. Those are her West
Indian ways. But don't you get gentility notions; Theodora will