too bewitching! Lord Arthur will be more desperate than ever. My poor little self will be nowhere beside you! I’m going to be sweet and simple in chiffon and pearls. Paquin made the gown. Don’t ask what it cost! I tore up the bill and threw it in the fire. Really, don’t you know, it made me quite depressed! So perishable, too! I expect I shall be in rags before the evening is over. But it’s quite sweet at present—all frilly-willys from top to toe. I do love to be fluffy and feminine, and my pearls really are unique! The princess examined them quite carefully when I met her last winter, and said she had rarely seen finer specimens. I wouldn’t wear them at all unless they were good. I cannot endure inferior jewels!”

The speaker lolled still more luxuriously in her chair, then started forward, as the door opened with a bang, and a harsh voice accosted her by name—

“Miss Mollie, your mother wants to know if you have finished darning the socks? She is putting away the clean clothes, and wants to sort them with the rest.”

The Lady Lucille—otherwise Mollie Farrell, the penniless daughter of an impoverished house—jumped up from her chair, and clasped her hands in dismay. In blissful contemplation of imagining chiffons and cotillions, the prosaic duties of reality had slipped from her mind, and recollection brought with it a pang of remorse.

“Misery me! I forgot the very existence of the wretched things! Never mind. Tell mother, Annie, that I’ll set to work this minute, and put them away myself as soon as they are done. Tell her I’m sorry; tell her I’ll be as quick as I possibly can!”

Annie stood for a moment in eloquent silence then shut the door and descended the stairs; while Mollie groped her way across the room, and Berengaria lifted herself from her chair with a sigh, and slipped her hand along the mantelpiece.

“I’ll light the gas. How horrid it is, being dragged back to earth by these sordid interruptions! It’s always the way—as soon as I begin to forget myself, and enjoy a taste of luxury, back I’m dragged to the same dull old life. I really saw that silver tissue, and felt the coldness of the diamonds against my shoulder; and then—socks! Those wretched, thick, ugly socks, with the heels all out, and the toes in rags! I think schoolboys ought to be obliged to darn their own clothes, just to teach them a little care!”

“Well, be aisy; you haven’t to darn them, anyway. It’s my work, which is the best of reasons why it is left undone. Hurry with the 

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