"How she loves everything bright and gay!" he said to himself. "She will be queen of the ball tonight." As Lord Earle stood alone in his library that evening, where he had been reading, stealing a quiet half hour, there came a gentle knock at the door. "Come in," he said, and there stood before him something that he thought must be a vision. "Grandmamma sent me," said Beatrice, blushing, "to see if I should do. You are to notice my diamonds, papa, and tell me if you approve of the setting." As he looked at the radiant figure a sense of wonder stole over him. Could this magnificent beauty really be Dora's daughter--Dora who had stained her pretty hand with strawberry juice so many years ago? He knew nothing of the details of the dress, he saw only the beautiful face and glorious eyes, the crowns of waving hair, the white, stately neck and exquisite arms. Before him was a gleam of pale pink satin, shrouded with lace so fine and delicate that it looked like a fairy web; and the Earle diamonds were not brighter than the dark eyes. They became the wearer well. They would have eclipsed a fair, faded beauty; they added radiance to Beatrice's. "Where is Lillian?" he asked; and she knew from the tone of his voice how proud and satisfied he was. "I am here, papa," said a gentle voice. "I wanted you to see Beatrice first." Lord Earle hardly knew which to admire the more. Lillian looked so fair and graceful; the pure, spiritual face and tender eyes had new beauty; the slender, girlish figure contrasted well with the stately dignity of Beatrice. "I hope it will be a happy evening for you both," he said. "I feel sure it will for me," said Beatrice, with a smile. "I am thoroughly happy, and am looking forward to the ball with delight." Lord Earle smiled half sadly as he gazed at her bright face, wondering whether, in years to come, it would be clouded or shadowed. "Will you dance, papa?" asked Beatrice, with a gleam of mischief in her dark eyes. "I think not," he replied; and Ronald Earle's thoughts went back to the last time he had ever danced--with Valentine Charteris. He remembered it well. Ah, no! All those pleasant, happy days were over for him. Chapter XXIX The dinner party was over, and carriage after carriage rolled up to the Hall; the rooms began to fill; there was a faint sound of music, a murmur of conversation and laughter. "You have not forgotten your promise to me, Miss Earle?" said Lord Airlie. "I am to have the first dance and the last, certainly, and as many more as you can spare." "I have not forgotten," replied Beatrice. She was never quite at her ease with him, although she loved him better than any one else on earth. There was ever present with her the consciousness that she did so love him, and the wonder whether he cared for her.