"That is a very pretty title," said Leone, "they call me a queen, the Queen of Song."
And the two women who were, each in her way, a "queen," smiled at each other.
"You see," continued Lady Chandos, "that my husband used to think there was nothing in the world but blondes. I have often told him if I bring a brunette here she is quite at a disadvantage; everything is blue, white, or silver."
Leone looked round the sumptuous room; the ceiling was painted by a master hand; all the story of Endymion was told there; the walls were superbly painted; the hangings were of blue velvet and blue silk, relieved by white lace; the carpet, of rich velvet pile, had a white ground with blue corn-flowers, so artistically grouped they looked as though they had fallen on the ground in picturesque confusion. The chairs and pretty couch were covered with velvet; a hundred little trifles that lay scattered over the place told that it was occupied by a lady of taste; books in beautiful bindings, exquisite drawings and photographs, a jeweled fan, a superb bouquet holder, flowers costly, beautiful, and fragrant; a room that was a fitting shrine for a goddess of beauty.
"My own room," said Lady Chandos, with a smile, as she closed the door; "and what a luxury it is, Madame Vanira—a room quite your own! Even when the house is full of visitors no one comes here but Lord Chandos; he always takes that chair near those flowers while he talks to me, and that is, I think, the happiest hour in the day. Sit down there yourself."
Leone took the chair, and Lady Chandos sat down on a footstool by her side. It was one of the most brilliant and picturesque pictures ever beheld; the gorgeous room, with its rich hangings, the beautiful, dark-eyed woman, with the Spanish face, her dress like softened sunbeams, the fire of her rubies like points of flame, her whole self lovely as a picture, and the fair Queen of Blondes, with the golden hair and white roses—a picture that would have made an artist's fortune.
"How pleasant this is," said Lady Chandos, "a few minutes' respite from the music and dancing! Do you love the quiet moments of your life, Madame Vanira?"
Leone looked down on the fair, lovely face with a deep sigh.
"No, I think not," she replied; "I like my stage life best."
Lady Chandos asked, in a half pitying tone: