d have recovered her _porte-monnaie_ she would have had
twenty dollars to offer, and even that seemed mockingly insufficient,
as the price of silence, of temporary escape from humiliation.

What could she do? She had never asked a cent from her guardian, and
the necessity of appealing to him was inexpressibly mortifying; but
to whom could she apply?

"'But Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of
these'--society tiger lilies."

The door swung wide open, and as she spoke Olga seemed to swim into
the room, so quick yet noiseless was her entrance.

At the sound of her voice, Regina dropped the money back into the
drawer, and turned to inspect the elegant toilette, which consisted
of gold-coloured silk and Mechlin lace, rich yellow roses with
sulphurous hearts, and a very complete set of topaz, which flashed
amber rays over the neck, ears, and arms of the wearer. With her
brilliant complexion, sparkling eyes, and hair elaborately powdered
with gold dust, she seemed a vision of light, at whom Regina gazed
with unfeigned admiration.

"Beautiful, Olga; beautiful."

"The textile fabrics, the silk and lace? Or the human framework, the
flesh and blood machine that serves as lay figure to show off the
statuesque folds, the creamy waves of cosily Mechlin, the Persian
roses, and expensive pebbles?"

"Both. The dress, and the wearer. I never saw you look so well."

"Thanks. Behold the result of the morning's self-denial, of a day
passed quietly in bed, with only the companionship of pillows and
dreams. I was forced to choose between Mrs. St. Clare's 'lunch' and
Mrs. Tarrant's 'crush,' 'not that I love Caesar less, but that I love
Rome more;' and the success of my strategy is brilliant. Am I not the
complete impersonation of sunshine? How deadly white and chill you
look! Come closer and warm yourself in my glorious rays. Do you scout
oneiriomancy as a heathenish fable? To-day I unexpectedly became a
convert to its sublime secrets. After you and mamma deserted me for
Cantata and Luncheon, I fell into a heavy sleep, and dreamed that I
was Danae, with a mist of gold drizzling over me; and lo! when I began
to dress this evening, my dazzled eyes beheld these superb topaz
gems. 'Compliments of Mr. Erle Palma, who thought they would
harmonize with the gold-coloured silk, and ordered them for the
occasion.' So said the card lying on the velvet case! Do you wonder
if the world is coming to its long-predicted end? Not at a