ase on our way to the scene of revelry; and suggestions of
fairyland were presented to us in the graceful girlish forms, clad in
light, diaphanous attire, that flitted here and there, or occasionally
passed us. Colonel Everard marched proudly along with the military
bearing that always distinguished him, now and then glancing admiringly
at his wife, who, indeed, looked her very best. Her dress was of the
finest Brussels lace, looped over a skirt of the palest shell-pink
satin; deep crimson velvet roses clustered on her breast, and nestled
in her rich hair; a necklace of magnificent rubies clasped her neck,
and the same jewels glittered on her round white arms. Her eyes shone
with pleasurable excitement, and the prettiest colour imaginable tinted
her delicate cheeks.

"When an American woman is lovely, she is very lovely," I said. "You
will be the belle of the room to-night, Amy!"

"Nonsense!" she replied, well pleased, though, at my remark. "You must
remember I have a rival in yourself."

I shrugged my shoulders incredulously.

"It is not like you to be sarcastic," I said. "You know very well I
have the air of a resuscitated corpse."

The Colonel wheeled round suddenly, and brought us all up to a
standstill before a great mirror.

"If YOU are like a resuscitated corpse, I'll throw a hundred dollars
into the next mud-pond," he observed. "Look at yourself."

I looked, at first indifferently, and then with searching scrutiny. I
saw a small, slender girl, clad in white, with a mass of gold hair
twisted loosely up from her neck, and fastened with a single star of
diamonds. A superb garniture of natural lilies of the valley was
fastened on this girl's shoulder; and, falling loosely across her
breast, lost itself in the trailing folds of her gown. She held a
palm-leaf fan entirely covered with lilies of the valley, and a girdle
of the same flowers encircled her waist. Her face was serious, but
contented; her eyes were bright, but with an intense and thoughtful
lustre; and her cheeks were softly coloured, as though a west wind had
blown freshly against them. There was nothing either attractive or
repulsive about her that I could see; and yet--I turned away from the
mirror hastily with a faint smile.

"The lilies form the best part of my toilette," I said.

"That they do," asserted Amy, with emphasis. "They are the finest
specimens I ever saw. It was real elegant of Mr. Cellini to send them
all fixed up ready like tha