The Admiral's Daughter

to show a slip of a new moon and peeping stars. The dancing-rooms opened on to a long terrace at the south side of the house, and in the warm evening the windows were set wi

curtseying three times to the heavenly visitor. The rite performed, my lady received the shawl, and for a space the old friends walked along the terrace in silence. Through the open windows sounded low voices and laughter. The ball-room was thronged, a

ad not taken many turns before

,' he said. 'The house s

ely. 'My guests are never dull, for the reason that dul

ave either dancing or watching the dance. But, my

en? I knew it!' she said grimly, as her hu

company Her Majes

ward?' She resumed her walk. 'La, la! 'tis an uncertain world. But I am mightily grateful to the powders for lasting so long as they did

her w

but what will y

te. She shall hem sheets and talk to Simone. I will see she takes the air. But

t, no

ar love

n. 'And I have not yet seen the little Simone, but from what I

t,' said Lady Fairfax, turning in

continued

ere to-night,' said Sampson, as his h

other. 'Her face was as white as yonder white roses in the bow

nervous now.

the brilliant pageant. All the youth and heyday of the Court were in Kensington this night. And stepping to and fro among them as she danced the minuet, Marion looked like a gold and white lily set amid tropical blooms. The spots of turquoise in her pearl necklace sought and found the blue-green touches in the embroideries

rded another instance of the faultless taste of Lady Fairfax: she had tuned the girl's appearance to the key-note of her personality. The men, knowing nothing of these subtleties, watc

o in the dance, or sitting by her side in the rooms below, or walking by her on the terrace flags, found that their whispers of adulation, their extravagant utterances, which were commonplaces in the social intercourse of the day, were wasted on the young lady they had thought to please. Their choicest seeds fell on stony ground. Marion had never learned to simper and look coy in the face of outrageous flattery. She would liste

beauty and grandeur. Then when the truth was borne home that she herself, and not any one of the Court damsels she envied, was the central figure; that each man there seemed to be a visitor merely to do her homage, first and throughout, Marion's mood changed. She had always loved to d

petticoat which an unwary foot had caught on the stairs. Her room was empty. As

ringly Marion broke the seal, and unfolded the sheet, l

s in the world to have writ me

ing was ungainly, in parts half illegible, the words ill spelt. Marion re-read several sentences before she began to grasp their meaning. It was something about Elise. Then she saw Roger's name. A

ht of her dressing-table sconces, Lady

hy are you

arity,' said Marion absently,

isten: there is the music of the galliard which Londoners are dancing to-night in honour of my country mai

rom the girl's cold fingers, and bend

am is my partner

of the older woman. She looked at the

! What is t

d—I like it not. But I had rat

ashed in and out

to read it in. But to-night—this is your ball, and your guests are wait

her petticoat. True to her character, she made no outward s

ing M

mechanical fingers, Marion ti

nd remember this is your special dance. I am following,

s' gallery as the fiddlers struck up the country air, she saw the wrinkled face of old Zacchary behind the performers, his eyes, full of pride and tenderness, watching the 'little maid' who was his delight. A sudden vision of her father came upon her. She rallied. Her head rose a little. She threw a smile to Zacchary, and holding her fingers to her partner, went lightly down betw

d you the news, Mistress Marion

gentleman, rising to his fe

ummoned to attend Her Majest

that cause. The news of her aunt's departure seemed to lay another weight upon her spirits, but she realised that much as she loved her aunt, the heaviness of the thought that

l. Her fingers were playing with the hand

a most unkind cloud to spread itself over the face of the sun, and leave the earth desolate

, bowed low. But the older eyes watching saw that something was amiss. Mr. Sampson drew up a vacant chair, and reward

up. Marion, watching her aunt, felt suddenly ashamed. The one glance Lady Fairfax had bestowed upon her told mo

ad just left his ship at Greenwich. Marion smiled on him, and threw out a few sea-going phrases; and the young sailor, who had coveted the honour of speaking to the daughte

that no one besides Colonel Sampson and Lady Fairfax had any suspicion that her heart belied her face. With her uncl

e, Colonel,' said Lady Fairfa

itation, and turning to Marion, asked for the ple

airfax. 'The fresh air w

her hand he contrived to throw into his gesture and par

Fairfax, passing her arm round Marion's waist. 'You can read yonder l

ype="