And yet this bold, meretricious woman evidently held sway over the young and graceful aide-de-camp on whose arm she rested, looking into his eyes with that audacious stare, from which some men,--you, for instance,-- would shrink. Mrs Rashleigh was evidently rallying him about me. Then Lady Amabel came up to her. What a contrast between the two,--Lady Amabel was fair, gentle, feminine, and not what the world calls clever; but the pure mind shone out of her soft eyes, and made her low voice musical. She said something civil to her guest, and took my father and myself away with her to a little room, where a few choice friends were gathered round Sir Adrian. I saw no more of Clarence that night, but retired to my bed to dream of fairy halls, and diamond palaces, and enchanted princes; and throughout the dream there hung about me an odious female genius, whose wand turned all I touched to ashes. I awoke, terrified at the thunder she had invoked upon _my_ head in her jealous anger. I could not help laughing, as, in the bad fairy's thunder, I recognised the parting salute of the young foreign sailor-Prince. I descended next morning, listless, unrested. Sir Adrian, my father, and Clarence Fairfax, were at the breakfast-table, and an aide-de-camp came in at an opposite door, as I entered. Lady Amabel was in her room. I took my seat by my father. The usual salutations passed; Clarence recognised me by one of his brilliant smiles. "Oh! Miss Daveney," observed Sir Adrian, "you were the envy of all the women last night." The colour rushed into my face. "Why so, sir?" I asked. "You monopolised the young Prince for the first dance. Mrs Vanderlacken expected to be taken out." "And," remarked Captain W, the other aide-de-camp, "Mrs Rashleigh was taken in; for she has established Fairfax as her _cavalier servant_, and he hung back last night." Involuntarily I looked at Clarence. "Ah!" remarked Sir Adrian, who was a thorough man of the world, "she is a little too old for you, Fairfax; she owns to three-and-thirty." "I thought," said I, surprised into volunteering a remark, "that Mrs Rashleigh's husband was alive." They burst into a fit of laughter at my _naivete_. I believe my father had every hope, from my innocence of character, that my _sejour_ at Cape Town would do me no harm. Lady Amabel was, as he knew, one of the most amiable of human beings; it was you who remarked that my father is one who has "made the most of human experiences, but is unlearned in those of society;" thus, he had been accustomed to see me associated with those young men who visited at our house whenever a commando brought them near Annerley; but society gathered within the home circle is widely different from that of a gay official residence, especially where the host is a man of the world, and the hostess facile, attractive, and unused to exercise her judgment.