Charlie got over his confusion in a moment; but not too quickly for a chorus of delighted laughter from the ladies near him. “Who is she, Mr. Townley?” laughed she of the diamonds; “she’s _very_ pretty.” And “tell us all about it, Charlie--we won’t tell,” roared Tony Duval. “You’re welcome to all I know,” said Townley, coolly. “She’s a dress-maker on Sixth Avenue, and makes dresses for my aunt.” Tony only laughed the more at this, and good-natured Lucie Gower led Charlie out of the box. “Come,” said he, “you must introduce me to her; I’m sure she does business with my uncle.” In the back of the box a little, red-haired Englishman was talking to a younger lady, sitting in the shadow; and she was glad, when everybody’s attention was drawn to a masked figure in the box opposite--a lady whose green tulle dress and very low corsage bespoke her also fashionable. “What superb emeralds!” cried the black-haired lady, in front. “I’d have thought Mrs. Hay would have known better,” said the other. “But there’s no mistaking the emeralds--on those shoulders----” “What! you don’t say its Mrs. Wilton Hay? Where did she get them? I asked Jack for a set not half so fine, and they cost a fortune. Who gave them to her?” “Mr. Hay, of course,” laughed the other. “You did not know diplomacy had been so profitable?” said Tony Duval. “See, there goes your husband--he has just been introduced to the blonde beauty.” “Not really? ’Pon honor, I didn’t think he had it in him,” said she. Then Tony Duval began to relate to his companion an anecdote of a nature that seemed to Arthur most surprising; he was sitting behind the _rivière_ of diamonds; and the rest of the company seemed bored. “Positively, Mr. Wemyss, there is nothing new under the sun,” answered the blonde in front. “After all, the flowery paths seem quite as stupid as the straight and narrow way.” “It’s very slow,” answered he addressed. “They’ve too much conscience for it still.” “Perhaps,” suggested another, “we could give them lessons.” It was Van Kull who spoke; and in the pause that ensued came the point of Duval’s story, accentuated by the silence; and Wemyss tactfully called attention to an adjoining box, where the ladies were sitting with their feet upon the railing, smoking cigarettes. “Come,” said she of the diamonds, rising; “we have had our moral lesson; it is time to go.” From the floor, Jenny Starbuck had watched this box, until she saw them rise as if to go. She stayed at the ball many hours later. But Arthur, in the back of the box, was witness of a little scene that she could not see. The elder ladies went out first, passing the Earl, who seemed busied with his companion’s opera-cloak. She was standing, leaning upon the back of an armchair, with her weight upon one round, bare arm; and as Arthur went out of the door he was almost certain that he saw their noble guest lay his hand upon her arm, familiarly.