As she paused for a moment on the threshold, she glanced at the statuesque figure of Lois. A curious, superstitious feeling crept over her, and a thrill of painful presentiment passed through her heart.
The young girl had entered the room only some twenty or thirty minutes before, arrayed like some glittering creature of light, sparkling with diamonds, placed, by desire of Lady Quaintree, among the gauzy folds of her semitransparent robes to represent drops of water, her superb, sun-bright hair floating like a halo of glory about her, radiant as a spirit.
Now she was draped in somber black, her aspect changed as by an enchanter’s wand. Her spiritual beauty did not suffer, it is true. She looked, if possible, more lovely thus shrouded; but—but still, Lady Quaintree wished that the news had not involved donning signs of mourning, and thought that people had no business to dictate terms of love and marriage from the grave.
“An unlucky omen!” she thought, gathering up her violet skirts and embroidered jupons.
CHAPTER V.
A TRIPLE BONDAGE.
Lady Quaintree had hoped to glean a little more information from the two gentlemen, for she was as much excited as if she herself had been the inheritrix of the eccentric old man’s money.
But she was disappointed. Scarcely had she returned to the principal drawing-room, when five or six guests arrived, and from that moment people came pouring into the salons until there was a well-bred, well-dressed throng.
Lois did not wait to be sent for. She came in with a quiet, calm dignity of manner, the color a shade deeper on her cheeks, and a feverish glitter in her eyes, but otherwise self-possessed, as usual.
Her marked change of costume attracted universal attention, and many inquiries were made. Lady Quaintree had the supreme felicity of being able to diffuse the information just received through a dozen different channels, whereby she was sure it would permeate to society in general.