New Year's Day came in: and with its evening a clash of many carriages, impatient horses, and quarrelsome coachmen filled the streets, for the gay world of Belport was flocking to the house of Signor de Castella. It was a brilliant scene, those reception-rooms, brilliant with their blaze of light and their exotics. Adeline de Castella stood by her mother. The guests had known and thought of her but as a plainly attired, simple schoolgirl, and were not prepared to recognize her as she stood before them in her costly attire and wondrous beauty. Her robes of white lace, flowing and elegant, sparkled with emeralds; single chains of emeralds encircled her neck, her arms, and confined in their place the waves of her silken hair; lustrous emeralds, heirlooms of the ancient family of de Castella. Her features, pure and regular as if chiselled from marble, were glowing with the crimson flush of excitement, rendering more conspicuous her excessive loveliness. "Oh, Adeline," whispered Mary Carr, when she could steal a few words with her, "how beautiful you are!" "What! have you turned flatterer too!" "Flattery---to _you!_ How mistaken they were tonight, when they supposed Rose would outshine all! If they could only see you now!" Miss Carr brought her words and her breath to a standstill, for, coming in at the door were Mr. and Mrs. Marlborough. "Yes," said Adeline, answering her exclamation of astonishment; "mamma met them today, just as they arrived from Paris, and made them promise to look in tonight. They are on their road to England. Lord John Seymour is with them." "What will Rose say?" ejaculated Mary Carr. Mr. and Mrs. Marlborough, Adeline, and others were standing together when Rose came up. Rose was not aware in whose presence she was, till she stood face to face with George Marlborough. A random remark she had been about to make to Adeline died upon her lips, and her face turned white. Eleanor was crimson; and there might have been an awkward pause, but for the readiness of Mr. Marlborough. "How do you do, Miss Darling?" he said, with a pleasant smile. "Nearly frozen up with this winter cold? It has been very severe in Paris." Rose recalled her scattered senses, and began to talk with him at random: but she barely exchanged courtesies with Eleanor. "Ellen," whispered Mr. Marlborough to his wife, later in the evening, "may I dance a quadrille with her?" "How silly!--to ask me that! I think it is the best thing you can do." But there was a shy, conscious blush on Mrs. Marlborough's cheek, as she answered. Her husband saw it, and went off laughing, and the next minute Rose was dancing with him. "Which of my presents do you admire most?" asked Adeline of Mary Carr, directing her attention to an extensive display of articles ranged together in the card-room: all offerings to her that day from friends and relatives, according to French custom on New Year's Day.