'Mamselle has beautiful nose, classique; I have made it more easy to see. And she has magnificent eyes; she should not wear her hair so low on the forehead, only those two little curls, just as I have put them—so. Also zey balance ze chin. Mamselle have ze chin a bit full, a bit too round. Now no one will notice——

'Yes, Adonis, you've made a masterpiece of me. Thank you, but I must get ready. I see the Hamiltons' curricle coming down the drive, and that means it's late. Peggy will give you your money in the kitchen.'

She hustled the old man out and called her maid. They embarked on the intricacies of her toilette, lacing her tender young body into long stays made of steel and leather. These reached so high as to push her small bosom even higher than its normal position, and they cut cruelly underneath. Theo hated them, and wore them as seldom as possible, fashion or no fashion. Over the stays went a short muslin petticoat, then white silk stockings with clocks, and tiny yellow satin shoes whose flexible kid soles barely separated her feet from the floor.

The shoes gave her no height, but the Parisian gown did, for it was fashioned very simply in the new mode: a long straight fall of white India muslin, caught high under the bosom with a band of gold embroidery whose gilded vine pattern was repeated at the hem.

And of course there was the necklace, sparkling on her white skin like a shower of raindrops.

When she looked in the mirror, she knew that she was lovely. Her heart swelled with a delicious sense of power. This was her evening, her day. To be admired and feted against the background of Aaron's fondly approving smile, what greater joy was there in life?

She paused before entering the long drawing-room, looking for her father. It was filled with people. Despite the flooding sunshine outside, the curtains were drawn and all the hundred tapers lighted. They glittered from their crystal pendants, a forest of twinkling yellow flame. The guests made a soft pastel blur of rose and blue and green and violet, accented by an occasional powdered head like that of the beautiful Mrs. John Jay, who clung to a fashion she knew suited her so well.

The buzz of conversation broke off and heads turned to welcome her. Aaron, impeccable in dove-gray satin and white neckcloth, sprang forward from a group.

'Here is Queen Theodosia at last! I suppose we must today accord her the royal prerogative of tardiness. He smiled at her with undisguised pride, despite the implied criticism. Aaron had no patience with tardiness, particularly when manners demanded that a hostess should be graciously ready long before guests arrived. Theo was glad to be let off so easily, as he led her forward to stand beside him against the fireplace.