lance of inspection to her train
over her bare white shoulder, people began to look at her again; and
when she crossed the room, she was an actual Sensation,--and to create
a sensation in the Bilberry parlors was to attain a triumph. Worse than
this, also, as her ladyship passed the bald-headed individual by
the screen, that gentleman--who was a lion as regarded worldly
possessions--condescended to make his first remark for the evening.

"Pretty girl, that," he said. "Nice girl,--fine figure. Relative?"

"My daughter's governess, sir," replied her ladyship, rigidly.

And in Dolly's passage across the room another incident occurred which
was not lost upon the head of the house of Bilberry. Near the seat of
Mr. Ralph Gowan stood a vacated chair, which obstructed the passage to
the piano, and, observing it, the gentleman in question rose and removed
it, bowing obsequiously in reply to Dolly's slight gesture of thanks,
and when she took her place at the instrument he moved to a seat near
by, and settled himself to listen with the air of a man who expected to
enjoy the performance.

And he evidently did enjoy it, for a very pleasant little performance it
was. The songs had a thrill of either pathos or piquancy in every
word and note, and the audience found they were listening in spite of
themselves.

When they were ended, Ralph Gowan sought out Lady Augusta in her
stronghold, and placidly proposed being introduced to her young guest;
and since it was evident that he intended to leave her no alternative,
her ladyship was fain to comply; and so, before half the evening was
over, Dolly found herself being entertained as she had never been
entertained before in the camps of the Philistines at least. And as to
the Eastern explorer, boredom was forgotten for the time, and he gave
himself up entirely to the amusing and enjoying of this piquant young
person with the white shoulders.

"Crewe," he said to her during the course of their first conversation.
"I am sure Lady Augusta said 'Crewe.' Then you are relatives, I
suppose?"

"Poor relations," answered Dolly, coolly, and without a shadow of
discomfiture. "I am the children's governess. Trying, is n't it?"

Ralph Gowan met the gaze of the bright eyes admiringly. Even at this
early period of their acquaintance he was falling into the snare
every other man fell into,--the snare of finding that Dolly Crewe was
startlingly unlike anybody else.

"Not for the children," he said