After coffee in the garden the party strolled over to the Casino in order to see the grand fireworks. The grounds were illuminated, and the crowd was immense. The entire scene was delightful, so gay, so exhilarating and so foreign. People of many nations sat about, or promenaded in groups, staring at the brilliant display, and listening to the band. Some of the members of the late festivity assembled on the terrace, where they paced to and fro, or stood to exclaim at some specially marvellous effect. Miss Chandos was so closely invested by Uhlan officers and other friends that Captain Haig had no opportunity of exchanging a word with her. After several frustrated attempts he turned aside, took a seat apart, and, we may as well admit it, sulked! He watched with discontented eyes the gay throng of well-dressed people, the glitter of diamonds, the bright stars overhead, the bright light around. He saw Verona (as he mentally called her) now holding a little court on the terrace, again strolling up and down with an Austrian field-marshal or a Russian grand duke, and he realised how difficult it would be for him to improve their acquaintance, and what a complete outsider he was. There were too many notable worshippers, all competing for a lady's society and favour, and he was but an impecunious officer who must not venture to claim the privilege of sunning himself in the beauty's smiles. Nevertheless, Captain Haig had some brief visions of Miss Chandos; for instance, at the Elisabeth Well of a morning, at the opera, or at church, now and then they exchanged a few sentences. At the annual Battle of Flowers--which was attended by all Homburg and Frankfort--the carriage of Madame de Godez was accorded a coveted banner, and first prize. The landau was entirely covered with pink roses, the very wheels had been transformed into colossal wreaths. Four milk-white horses, caparisoned with roses and silver, were led by grooms wearing pink and silver livery and white wigs. It was the chariot of a Fairy Queen, and was received with shouts of admiration and pelted with a hurricane of flowers. Enthroned in the vehicle reclined Madame de Godez, arrayed (despite her maid) in a gorgeous pink and silver pelisse, with feathered headgear of the most imposing assumption. ("The blot on the escutcheon," Sir Horace dubbed the lady.) Beside her was seated the Princess, clad in white, her hat crowned with roses; on the coach box was perched Dog Darling, decorated en suite, with an enormous pink bow--glowering at all the world and shivering with shame! The carriage was crammed with flowers of the most costly varieties, which the two ladies tossed to the crowd with liberal hands. As the splendid equipage rolled majestically between dense masses of admiring spectators it seemed to represent the triumphal car of Beauty and Mammon.