The "massed gems" consisted of a diamond brooch and a small heart-shaped pendant to match, which nestled together in the folds of chiffon at Grizel's breast. It was a charming and ludicrous sight to behold her inflate her slight form at the prescribed moment, but sure enough, the stones flashed in response, catching a passing sunbeam and blazing with a brilliance altogether out of proportion to their size. "There!" cried Grizel triumphantly, achieving a double chin in her effort to admire her own splendour. "Never say again that I don't do you credit!" The first part of the afternoon was spent pleasantly enough in strolling about the gardens, or in sitting down to watch the kaleidoscopic brilliance of the scene. At intervals Martin was hailed by a fellow-writer or club acquaintance, or Grizel by a friend from town, but Katrine was never so addressed. Other girls less attractive than herself flitted about with attendant cavaliers, or formed the centres of merry groups. What was the use of being "unnecessarily good-looking," if no one were influenced thereby? Across the sunshine of the scene shot grey shadows of depression. In the midst of a crowd one could be so horribly alone! Among the hundreds of guests crowding the green lawn, not one cared to pause by her side. Even Martin and Grizel.--It was a hateful thought, Katrine fought against it, but her heart acknowledged its truth,--they would be happier without her! It was inevitable that the mind should leap to the remembrance of the one man who _would_ have cared; who, entering by those great gates, would have come swiftly forward, unsatisfied, unseeing, till he had gained her side! Across the intervening miles went out a warm, glad thought: "_He would have cared_!" said Katrine's heart, and at the thought the sun shone again. "Excuse me one moment!" cried Martin hurriedly. "That man over there.-- I've been wanting to catch him for months..." He darted across the lawn, and the two girls subsided into chairs, afraid to leave the spot, lest in the crowd he might not be able to find them on his return. Already Grizel was looking tired and spent; the little face beneath the sweeping hat was white as a tired rose, but the whimsical light shone bright as ever in the golden eyes as she turned them on the passing throng, and from her lips bubbled an endless stream of nonsense. It was difficult for a listener to preserve a due decorum of manner as each group passed by, heralded by biographical sketches in those low, rich tones.