“Wilbur can act as our escort, mamma; so we shall be all right,” she said, when her mother complained of the circumstance as spoiling all their pleasure. “I have no heart for it, and would not go myself, were it not on your account,” she replied, wearily. Her husband’s displeasure, and the fate of the missing governess, still weighed heavily on her conscience. A few hours later she and Wilbur were waiting in the drawing-room for Isabel to make her appearance. “Does my amiable sister contemplate a brilliant conquest to-night, that she is so long making her toilet?” sneered the young man, who had been pressed into the service, and was impatient of the delay. “Do speak a little more kindly of Isabel, my son,” said Mrs. Coolidge, adding, with a heavy sigh: “In all probability she will marry some day, and it is desirable that she should make a good match.” “Certainly; only there may be a difference of opinion as to what a ‘good match’ is,” he returned, sarcastically. “I consider any one who occupies a good position in the world, and who has plenty of money, an eligible _parti_.” “Regardless of either heart, brain, or principles,” interrupted Wilbur cynically. “Why will you be so disagreeable, Wilbur? Of course, I expect your sister will exercise good judgment in the matter, and I have no fear of her letting herself down, or losing her head by any silly nonsense,” retorted Mrs. Coolidge, pointedly. Wilbur understood her insinuation perfectly, but would not notice it enough to reply, and just then the rustle of rich, trailing garments was heard upon the stairs. A moment later the door opened, and Isabel entered. There was an instant’s silence as both mother and son turned to contemplate her. “Isabel!” exclaimed the former, in tones of gratified pride. “Whew!” whistled her brother, under his breath. There was cause, truly, for these ejaculations of pleasure and surprise, for the young girl certainly had the appearance of a queen, and, for the first time in her life, she was handsome. Her tall figure was clad in a rich white silk, with raised figures of golden maize wrought upon it. It fitted her elegantly, and swept out behind her in a graceful train. It was very simply made, being trimmed only by a fall of elegant lace from the low-cut corsage and sleeves. Its very richness was enough in itself. Her hair was arranged _a la coronet_, around which glistened Brownie’s lovely tiara of pearls, opals, and diamonds; while upon her neck she wore the wonderful diamond necklace, from which was suspended the cross which matched the tiara. Upon her white arms she wore her own bracelets, which, although not so rich as the necklace, yet went with it very well. She was absolutely perfect and dazzling, from the crown of her haughty head to the sole of her elegantly embroidered satin slipper. “Will I do, mamma?” she asked, enjoying their silent admiration, and sweeping Mrs. Coolidge a profound courtesy.