e biscuits that
had fallen from their dainty pyramid.

[Illustration: "'HILDEGARDE GRAHAME, IN THE NAME OF ALL THAT'S
WONDERFUL!'"]

Now voices were heard at the door, and a gay group entered. A splendid
carriage stood without, and these rustling, high-plumed ladies had
evidently just dismounted from it. There were four of them, and they
were joined in another moment by two or three more. Apparently, all had
been at some concert, for they were talking all at once, and Hildegarde
heard the words, "Exquisite!" "Technique!" "Andante!" etc., repeated
over and over. She became interested, and forgot for the moment her
position, when something curious recalled it to her. She recognised, in
one of the younger ladies, her cousin Blanche Van Dene, one of Mrs.
Delansing's granddaughters; and almost at the same instant, she became
aware that Blanche had recognised her, and that she was anxious to avoid
any open recognition. Her eyes had met Hildegarde's for one second; the
next, she had turned her back squarely, and was chattering volubly in
the ear of her neighbour.

A wave of anger surged over Hildegarde, leaving the very tips of her
ears pink as it receded; but the wave of amusement followed it quickly,
and the second wave bore a little spray of malice. Should she call to
her, and say, "Dearest Blanche, how is your dear mother?" Or she might
put on a twang--Hildegarde had an excellent twang at her disposal, and
say, "Hello, Blanchey! Haow's yer haalth, and haow's the folks to home?"
Oh! it would be fun! And surely the girl deserved it! Such bad form, to
say nothing of bad feeling! But here Hildegarde seemed to hear a certain
familiar voice saying, "My dear, a debt of rudeness is one that should
never be paid!" So she held her tongue, and contented herself with
looking hard at Blanche's back, which showed consciousness and
discomfort in every line.

So intent was Hildegarde on her cousin's back, that she did not notice
that one of the other ladies had turned round, and was gazing at her in
perplexity; next moment a shout rang out, in a clear, joyous voice that
made every one start.

"Hilda Grahame, in the name of all that is wonderful! My dear, what sky
have you dropped from?"

Hildegarde started, and saw a splendid vision advancing towards her with
outstretched hand. A girl somewhat older than herself, with the walk and
figure of a goddess and the dress of a queen; a face of almost faultless
beauty, and large clear eyes