She stood now before the toilet glass, while her Abigail put the finishing touches to the dress, right glad to see some of the finery worn once again. It appeared to her that her mistress’s beauty, of which she was proud, and her accomplishments, of which she had heard people speak, were utterly and entirely thrown away in a place like this. Eleanor stood a little undecided what ornaments to wear, when her maid was summoned away, and presently returned, bearing in her hand a bouquet, with a card dangling from it. ‘If you please, ma’am, I was to give you this, with Mr. Langstroth’s compliments.’ ‘Mr. Langstroth!’ suddenly exclaimed Eleanor, a quick change coming over her face; and then, taking the flowers, she lifted the card and read: ‘With Mr. Gilbert Langstroth’s compliments;’ and just below, ‘Miss Askam wished for some double violets for this evening, which G. L. hopes do not arrive too late to be of use.’ Eleanor had held her breath as she perused these words; she now breathed again, quickly, and said, as she gave his flowers again into her maid’s hand— ‘Put them down, and just twist these pearls through my hair. I shall wear them, I think.’ ‘Yes, ma’am,’ said Louisa, and added as she surveyed the flowers—‘They’re really lovely, ma’am. Could Mr. Langstroth have got them in England?’ ‘Of course he could. One can get anything by sending to Covent Garden,’ replied her mistress hastily. ‘Pray be quick, Louisa, for I hear that Miss Wynter has come, and is waiting for me.’ Louisa laid the flowers—exquisite double violets, both blue and white, whose delicate perfume had already made itself felt in the warm air of the room—upon a table and obeyed the injunction in silence. Eleanor sat before the glass, with eyes cast down, and feelings in which vague apprehension and uncertainty were predominant. Gilbert Langstroth had been with them a fortnight—surely not a very long time; but in that fortnight he had succeeded in making her feel that he was a power, and a great one, in everything that concerned her brother’s affairs; that if she wished to have any permanent hold upon Otho, she must take Otho’s friend, and that friend’s will and pleasure into account; that only by cutting herself entirely adrift from Otho could she act or plan without reference to Gilbert. That was surely matter enough for consideration; and, in addition to that, she had begun to feel during the last week, that Gilbert had some idea of being a power in her affairs too. She rebelled against this; she revolted against it, but she trembled, and she literally did not know what course to take. The appearance of the violets now only added to her embarrassment. She was roused by Louisa’s voice. ‘There, ma’am. These always suit you better than anything else, and they go perfectly with this dress. And I think, if you would let me put a small bunch of the violets here, in front of your dress, instead of any more ornaments——’