In accordance with the elegant ease that characterized Mrs. Washington’s drawing-rooms, several ladies of distinguished musical taste and talent had varied the entertainment of the evening by singing, to the accompaniment of the harp, or piano, the national odes and popular songs of that day. Then ensued a short interval, at the close of which Miss De Lancie permitted herself to be led to the harp by Colonel Compton. She was a stranger to most persons in that saloon, and it was simply her appearance as she passed and took her place at the harp that had elicited that restrained burst of admiration with which this chapter opens. She was, indeed, a woman of superb beauty, which never shone with richer lustre than upon this occasion that I present her to the reader. Her figure was rather above the medium height, but elegantly proportioned. The stately head arose from a smoothly-rounded neck, whose every curve and bend was the very perfection of grace and dignity; lustrous black hair, with brilliant purple lights like the sheen on the wing of some Oriental bird, was rolled back from a queenly forehead, and turned over a jeweled comb in a luxuriant fall of ringlets at the back of her head; black eyebrows distinctly drawn, and delicately tapering toward the points, were arched above rich, deep eyes of purplish black, that languished or glowed, rocked or flashed, from beneath their long lashes with every change of mood; and all harmonized beautifully with a pure, rich complexion, where the clear crimson of the cheeks blended softly into the pearly whiteness of the blue-veined temples and broad forehead, while the full, curved lips glowed with the deepest, brightest flush of the ruby. She was arrayed in a royal purple velvet robe, open over a richly-embroidered white satin skirt; her neck and arms were veiled with fine point lace; and a single diamond star lighted up the midnight of her hair.