And she was beautiful. A faultless shape, neck and shoulders white as snow, a countenance framed in jet-black hair, the red bloom of a passionate organization on lips and cheeks, large eyes, whose intense light was rather deepened than subdued by the shadow of the long eyelashes. And then the blush which coursed over her face and neck, as she felt Godlike's burning gaze fixed upon her, can be compared to nothing save a sudden flash of morning sunlight, trembling over frozen snow. One of those women, altogether, whose organization embodies the very intensity of intellect and passion, and whose way in life lies along no middle track, but either rises to the full sunlight, or is lost in shadows and darkness. "You consent, my child?" Godlike softened his organ-like voice,--took her hand within his own--she did not give, nor did she withdraw her hand,--"Randolph shall go abroad, upon an honorable mission to a foreign court, where he will be treated as a man, without regard to the taint (if thus it may be called) in his blood. He will have fair and free scope for the development of his genius. And you,--" He paused. She lifted her eyes to his face, and met his burning glances, with a searching and profound look. "And myself,--" "And you shall go with me to Washington, where your beauty shall command all hearts, your intellect carve for yourself a position, that a queen might envy." She made no reply, but her eyes were downcast, her beautiful forehead darkened by a shade of thought. Was she measuring the full force and meaning of his words? "In,--what--capacity--did--you--say?" she asked at length in a faint voice. "As my ward,--" responded Godlike; "you will be known as my ward, the heiress and daughter of a wealthy West Indian, who at his death, intrusted your person and fortune to my care. You will have your own mansion, your pair of servants, carriage and so-forth,--in fact, all the externals of a person of immense wealth. As my ward you will enter the first circles of society. The whole machinery of life at the Capital will be laid bare to your gaze, and with your hand upon the spring which sets that machinery in motion, you can command it to your will. You will not live, you will reign!" "Tell me something," said Esther, in a low voice, her bosom for a moment swelling above the scarlet border of her robe,--"Tell me something of life at the Capital,--life in Washington City." Godlike laughed until his broad chest shook again,--a deep sardonic laugh.