is a perfect artist
where dresses are concerned. You look charming."

"And her neck and arms, my lady!" puts in Sarah, who is almost tearful
in her admiration. "Surely Miss Massereene's cannot be equaled. They
are that white, Miss Molly, that no one could be found fault with for
comparing them to the dribbling snow."

"A truly delightful simile," exclaims Molly, merrily, and forthwith
follows Cecil to conquest.

They find the drawing-rooms still rather empty. Marcia is before them,
and Philip and Mr. Potts; also Sir Penthony. Two or three determined
ball-goers have arrived, and are dotted about, looking over albums,
asking each other how they do, and thinking how utterly low it is of
all the rest of the county to be so late. "Such beastly affectation,
you know, and such a putting on of side, and general straining after
effect."

"I hope, Miss Amherst, you have asked a lot of pretty girls," says
Plantagenet, "and only young ones. Old maids make awful havoc of my
temper."

"I don't think there are 'lots' of pretty girls anywhere; but I have
asked as many as I know. And there are among them at least two
acknowledged belles."

"You don't say so!" exclaims Sir Penthony. "Miss Amherst, if you wish
to make me eternally grateful you will point them out to me. There is
nothing so distressing as not to know. And once I was introduced to a
beauty, and didn't discover my luck until it was too late. I never even
asked her to dance! Could you fancy anything more humiliating? Give you
my honor I spoke to her for ten minutes and never so much as paid her a
compliment. It was too cruel,--and she the queen of the evening, as I
was told afterward."

"You didn't admire her?" asks Cecil, interested. "Never saw her
beauty?"

"No. She was tall and had arched brows,--two things I detest."

The ball is at its height. Marcia, dressed in pale maize silk,--which
suits her dark and glowing beauty,--is still receiving a few late
guests in her usual stately but rather impassive manner. Old Mr.
Amherst, standing beside her, gives her an air of importance. Beyond
all doubt she will be heavily dowered,--a wealthy heiress, if not
exactly the heir.

Philip, as the supposed successor to the house and lands of Herst,
receives even more attention; while Molly, except for her beauty, which
outshines all that the room contains, is in no way noticeable. Though,
when one holds the ace of trumps, one feels almost independent of the
other honors.