She watched her opportunity, and when Crowdie at last left her mother’s side, went to her immediately. They were a wonderful pair as they stood together for a few moments, and many people watched them. Mrs. Lauderdale, who was especially conscious of the admiration she was receiving that night, felt so vain of herself that she did not attempt to avoid the comparison, but drew herself up proudly to her great height in the full view of every one, and as though remembering and repenting of the bitter envy she had felt of Katharine’s youth even as lately as the previous day, she looked down calmly and lovingly into the girl’s face. Katharine was not in the least aware that any one was looking at them, nor did she imagine any comparison possible between her mother and herself. Her faults of character certainly did not lie in the direction of personal vanity. Many people, too, thought that she was not looking her best, as the phrase goes, on that evening, while others said that she had never looked as well before. She was transparently pale, with that fresh pallor which is not unbecoming in youth and health when it is natural, or the result of an emotion. The whiteness of her face made her deep grey eyes seem larger and deeper than ever, and the broad, dark eyebrows gave a look of power to the features, which was striking in one so young. Passion, anxiety, the alternations of hope and fear, even the sense of unwonted responsibility, may all enhance beauty when they are of short duration, though in time they must destroy it, or modify its nature, spiritualizing or materializing it, according to the objects and reasons from which they proceed. The beauty of Napoleon’s death mask is very different from that of Goethe’s, yet both, perhaps, at widely different ages, approached as nearly to perfection of feature as humanity ever can. “Well, child, have you come back to me?” asked Mrs. Lauderdale, with a smile. There was nothing affected in her manner, for she had too long been first, yet she knew that her smile was not lost on others--she could feel that the eyes of many were on her, and she had a right to be as handsome as she could. Even Katharine was struck by the wonderful return of youth. “You’re perfectly beautiful to-night, mother!” she exclaimed, in genuine admiration. There was something in the whole-hearted, spontaneous expression of approval from her own daughter which did more to assure the elder woman of her appearance than all Crowdie’s compliments could have done. Katharine rarely said such things. “You’re not at all ugly yourself to-night, my dear!” laughed Mrs. Lauderdale. “You’re a little pale--but it’s very becoming. What’s the matter? Are you out of breath? Have you been dancing too long?” “I didn’t know that I was pale,” answered Katharine. “No, I’m not out of breath--nor anything. I just came over to you because I saw you were alone for a moment. By the bye, mother, have you seen Jack anywhere?”