"Oh, forgive me, dear!" she murmured, with the impulsive enthusiasm of her age. "But I could not go to sleep until I came to you and told you how glad I am!"
"Glad?" said Margaret, flushing quickly, and tossing the long tresses of silky hair so that they hid her face.
"Yes, glad!" repeated Florence, joyously. "Why, you dear, sly girl, you are not going to be so wicked as to pretend that you don't know what has happened?"
"What has happened?" said Margaret, her face all aflame for a moment, then growing pale.
"I mean your great success to-night," said the girl, sinking at Margaret's feet and leaning her head against her knee. "I can't sleep for thinking of it. The countess says she remembers nothing like it, it is not only the picture, which was quite enough to make you famous, but yourself, dear—yourself! Isn't it almost too unfair for one person to be so lovely and bewitching and also so clever?"
Margaret forced a smile and smoothed the girl's rather rough locks.
"Are you making fun of me, princess?" she said pleasantly, and yet a little sadly.
The princess looked up at her amazedly, then uttered an exclamation.
"Then it really is true that you don't know that you have caused such a sensation?" she exclaimed. "Why, dear, it was a furore, it was a 'Veni, vidi, vici,' as our ancient emperor said. Do you know that directly you left the salon everybody fell to talking about you, though they had done that while you were there under pretense of talking about your picture. They all talked about you as if you were something that had dropped out of the skies, and we Rivanis were lucky to own the particular spot of earth upon which your divinityship descended."
Margaret laughed softly. The girl's enthusiasm amused her, and yet it was honest enough.