She had several offers of marriage, but refused them all, for her heart was set on becoming Lady Carrol, and going to shine among the nobility of England. When the time drew near for their departure, her heart beat high with hope; for Lord Carrol had lingered beyond the time he had intended to spend there, and she flattered herself that she was the cause of it. He certainly had shown her considerable attention, and it was rumored that there would be an engagement. He appeared to enjoy the society of both ladies, and although he had not committed himself in any way, he had accepted an invitation to visit them at their country-seat the second week in October, and both Josephine and her mother were hoping much from that event. The last evening of their sojourn at Long Branch, Miss Richards descended to the veranda of the hotel, dressed with the utmost care and taste. Her robe was of creamy white silk, with an overdress of filmy black lace, looped with crimson fuchsias. There were diamonds in her ears, her hair, and clasped about her neck and arms; but they were not brighter than her midnight eyes, which glowed with hope and love, while her smiling lips vied with the flowers which she wore. She was brilliantly, dazzlingly beautiful. The men watched her every movement with admiring glances; the women could but acknowledge her superior charms, yet with something of a feeling of envy on account of the prize they believed she was about to bear away with her. Lord Carrol seemed drawn to her as the needle to the pole. He had been sitting at one end of the veranda when she came down, but he almost immediately arose and went to her side, while he would not have been human not to have betrayed his appreciation of the exquisite toilet, which seemed to enhance her beauty more than ever. She was conscious of looking her best, and this made her appear to better advantage—for who does not feel more at ease and self-possessed when conscious of looking well?—while there was an unusual gentleness, almost sadness, in her manner, as if something foreshadowed that something was slipping out of her life to-night—something which would change and darken her whole future, unless the man whom she had grown to worship should lay at her feet homage equal to that which she had given to him. “What will the devotees at beauty’s shrine do to-morrow, Miss Richards?” the young lord asked, with a smile and a glance which told her what she knew already—that she was particularly attractive to-night. “The Howland House possesses a galaxy of beauties, and I do not think there will be any occasion for the ‘devotees,’ as you call them, to neglect their duty to-morrow,” she answered, smiling too, but with heightened color. “Ah! but it is plainly to be seen where they have bent the knee most devoutly,” he replied, with a gesture which called her attention to the many admiring eyes fixed upon her.