She looked happy and eager now, the fatal amethysts were once more clasped round her throat and shining in her hair; her dress was of some faint indescribable tint that harmonised with the jewels, it hung in soft, simple folds. She carried some quaint rare orchids in her hand. Her dress was noticeable, as well as her person, and it seemed to Sylvester that she came like a queen with her court, for she was with a large party, who all made for the portrait, near which Sylvester stood. It was neither Lady Haredale's way to resent the past, nor to slight an unprofitable acquaintance; and, though Sylvester stepped aside, feeling acutely that she had a right to refuse to know him, she paused and said quite sweetly,-- "Why, it's young Mr Riddell! How do you do? And how is our dear old Rector, and your aunt? Amethyst--Una--Mr Sylvester Riddell is here!" What could be sweeter? Sylvester's friends were envious, as Amethyst turned away from the tall foreigner to whom she had been speaking, and gave her hand to Sylvester, courteously, but without the slightest effusion. She was perfectly at her ease, but he felt that she did not mean to be cordial, while he coloured and looked embarrassed, as he answered, and Lady Haredale asked him to dinner for the next day. "So lucky that we are dining at home." He accepted of course, and Lady Haredale went on talking to him; whether from mere purposeless geniality, or from a "wish to tease"--as the nursery poem has it--the other men in attendance, he could not tell. The young lady remained passive. She stood still, and gave words when they were demanded of her, "as if they had been flowers from her bouquet," thought the poetical Sylvester. When Sir Richard Grattan asked her to come and look at a landscape which he thought of buying, and to give her opinion on it, she went at once, and studied the picture, appraising its merits, and appearing genuinely to forget herself in admiring it. That was like the old Amethyst, but the action was noted, and conclusions drawn by every bystander. The odds were certainly with Sir Richard Grattan. Sylvester managed to stand about within sight, and more or less within hearing. "The advantage of modern pictures," said Sir Richard Grattan, "is that one knows their real value. `Old Masters' are a mere swindle. I don't believe even the experts can tell if they're genuine." "I like modern landscapes--they are so real," said Amethyst. "There is a picture by Titian, as you call him, in my house in Rome," said Prince Pontresina in delicate careful English, "which was painted for my ancestor by the master himself, and we possess his receipt for the money that was paid to him." "Oh, that is interesting! I should like to see Titian's handwriting," said Amethyst with enthusiasm. "If I have ever the privilege of showing that precious heirloom to Miss Haredale, the moment for which it has been preserved for ages will have come. I can then destroy it," said the prince.