self up.

"It is a small party at the duchess's," said the latter; "merely to meet
the Duke and Duchess of C----."

"Ah, few people are capable of giving a suitable entertainment to the
royal family."

"But surely none more so than the Duchess of Daubigny--her house so
large, her rank so great!"

"These are but poor ingredients towards the forming of an agreeable
party," said Constance, coldly. "The mistake made by common minds is to
suppose titles the only rank. Royal dukes love, above all other persons,
to be amused; and amusement is the last thing generally provided for
them."

The conversation fell into other channels. Constance rose to depart.
She warmly pressed the hand of Mrs. Trevor, whom she had only seen once
before.

"A few persons come to me to-morrow evening," said she; "_do_ waive
ceremony, and join us. I can promise you that not one disagreeable
person shall be present; and that the Duchess of Daubigny shall write
for an invitation and be refused."

Mrs. Trevor accepted the invitation.

Lady Delville was enraged beyond measure. Never was female tongue more
bitter than hers at the expense of that insolent Lady Erpingham! Yet
Lady Delville was secretly in grief; for the first time in her life, she
was hurt at not having been asked to a party: and being hurt because she
was not going, she longed most eagerly to go.

The next evening came. Erpingham House was not large, but it was well
adapted to the description of assembly its beautiful owner had invited.
Statues, busts, pictures, books, scattered or arranged about the
apartments, furnished matter for intellectual conversation, or gave at
least an intellectual air to the meeting.

About a hundred persons were present. They were selected from the most
distinguished ornaments of the time. Musicians, painters, authors,
orators, fine gentlemen, dukes, princes, and beauties. One thing,
however, was imperatively necessary in order to admit them--the
profession of liberal opinions. No Tory, however wise, eloquent or
beautiful, could, that evening, have obtained the sesame to those
apartments.

Constance never seemed more lovely, and never before was she so winning.
The coldness and the arrogance of her manner had wholly vanished. To
every one she spoke; and to every one her voice, her manner, were kind,
cordial, familiar, but familiar with a soft dignity that heightened the
charm. Ambitious not only to please but to dazzle, she breathed into her
con