fringe of silver
filigree and a deep fall of Valenciennes lace, a question on both
sides of which Mademoiselle Nina had much to say. In all these little
discussions, the mock importance lent to mere trifles at first amused
Kate, and even provoked her laughter; but, by degrees, she learned not
only to listen to them with attention, but even to take her share in
the consultation. Nina's great art lay in her capacity for adapting a
costume to the peculiar style and character of the wearer; and, however
exaggerated were some of her notions on this subject, there was always
a sufficiency of shrewd sense and good taste in her remarks to overbear
any absurdity in her theory. Kate Dalton, whose whole nature had been
simplicity and frankness itself, was gradually brought to assume
a character with every change of toilette; for if she came down to
breakfast in a simple robe of muslin, she changed it for a costume
de paysanna to walk in the garden, and this again for a species of
hunting-dress to ride in the Cascini, to appear afterwards at dinner in
some new type of a past age; an endless variety of these devices at last
engaging attention, and occupying time, to the utter exclusion of topics
more important and interesting.

The letter was now to be resumed; but the clew was lost, and her mind
was only fettered with topics of dress and toilette. She walked out upon
the terrace to recover her composure; but beneath the window was rolling
on that endless tide of people and carriages that swells up the great
flood of a capital city. She turned her steps to another side,
and there, in the pleasure-ground, was George Onslow, with a great
horse-sheet round him, accustoming a newly purchased Arabian to the
flapping of a riding-skirt. It was a present Sir Stafford had made her
the day before. Everything she saw, everything she heard, recalled but
one image, herself! The intoxication of this thought was intense.
Life assumed features of delight and pleasure she had never conceived
possible before. There was an interest imparted to everything, since in
everything she had her share. Oh! most insidious of all poisons is that
of egotism, which lulls the conscience by the soft flattery we whisper
to ourselves, making us to believe that we are such as the world affects
to think us. How ready are we to take credit for gifts that have
been merely lent us by a kind of courtesy, and of which we must make
restitution, when called upon, with what app