and
magnificent black eyes.

"The rude beast!--Julia Kaye, of course." But Isabel forgot them both in
the novelty of the scene. The square white hall was lit with wax-candles
and shaded lamps, and filled with the murmur of voices--beautiful
gowns--the sparkle of jewels. Isabel dismissed the memory of early
trials, the long years she had lived in the last three, her philosophic
resignation to the disillusions and disappointments with which her
liberty had been pitted; it was her first appearance in the world of
fashion--which she entered, after all, by a sort of divine right.
Trepidation was undeveloped in her, and when she had stood for a moment,
quite aware that her proud and singular beauty had won her instant
recognition, she walked over to her hostess.

No fresh demand was made on her courage. Lady Victoria's earlier mood of
colossal indifference had been dissipated by her son's return. She
greeted Isabel with a dazzling smile and a winning gesture.

"Isn't Jack a darling? Isn't he a dear?" she commanded. "I have put you
on his left, that you may be sure not to be bored. What hair! That is
_your_ legacy from Spain. I have the eyes, but I never had a foot of
hair. I hope you are comfortable. I expect you to remain a week. I am so
glad that Jack will be here. The place is intolerably dull without him."

Isabel, warming to such maternal ardor in a beauty whose years were
prematurely emphasized by a son as conspicuous as Elton Gwynne, summoned
a few vague words of enthusiasm. She was reproached politely for
wandering about England for two months before discovering herself to her
relatives; then, Lady Victoria's interest waning, she turned to a young
man, handsome and Saxon and orthodox, and said, casually, "Jimmy, you
will take in Miss Otis."

Dinner had already been announced. The twain, in complete ignorance of
each other's identity, walked through a long line of rooms, almost
unfurnished but for the scowling or smiling dead crowding the walls.
Isabel decided that she would be as effortless as the English and see
what came of it. The practised instinct of the American girl, added to
the excessive hospitality of the Californian, would have led her to put
her companion immediately at ease, but not only was she fond of
experimenting with racial characteristics upon her own hidden
possibilities, but she was intensely proud, and the English attitude had
stung her more than once.

"Why should I please them?" she thou