The Countess wore, I remember, a gown of purple velvet fronted with yellow satin, which to my eyes hung a trifle heavily upon her young figure and so emphasized its slenderness, imparting even to her neck and head a certain graceful fragility. The rich colour of her hair was hidden beneath a mask of powder after the fashion, and below it her face shone pale, pale indeed as when I saw her last, but with a wonderful clarity and pureness of complexion, so that as she spoke the blood came and went very prettily about her cheeks and temples. The two attributes, however, which I noted with the greatest admiration were her eyes and voice. For it seemed to me well-nigh beyond belief that the eyes which I now saw flashing with so lively a fire were the same which had stared vacantly into mine at Lukstein Castle, and that the voice which I now heard musical with all the notes of laughter was that which had sent the shrill, awful scream tearing the night. After a while the company sat down to basset and quadrille, and I was left standing disconsolately by myself. I looked around for Elmscott, being minded to depart, when her voice sounded at my elbow, and I forgot all but the sweetness of it. "Mr. Buckler," she asked, "you do not play?" "No," I replied. "I have seen but little of either cards or dice, and that little has given me no liking for them." "Then I will make bold to claim your services, for the room is hot, and my ears, perchance, a little tired." 'Twas with no small pride, you may be sure, that I gave my arm to the Countess; only I could have wished that she had laid her hand less delicately upon my sleeve. Indeed, I should hardly have known that it rested there at all had I not felt its touch more surely on the strings of my heart. We went into a smaller apartment at the end of the room, which was dimly lit, and very cool and peaceful. The window stood open and showed a little balcony with a couch. The Countess seated herself upon it with a sigh of relief, and leaning forward, plucked a sprig of flowers which grew in a pot at her side. "I love these flowers," said she, holding the spray towards me. 'Twas the blue flower of the aconite plant, and I answered: "They remind you of your home." "Then you know the Tyrol, and have travelled there." She turned to me with a lively interest. "I learnt that much of botany at school." "There should be a fellow-feeling between us, Mr. Buckler," she said after a pause; "for we are both strangers to London, waifs thrown together for an hour." "But there is a world of difference, for you might have lived amongst these gallants all your days, while I, alas! have no skill even to hide my awkwardness." "Nay, no excuses, for I like you the better for the lack of that skill." "Madame," I began, "such words from you----" She turned to me with a whimsical entreaty.