Gipsy led her guest to the upper end of the room, under a raised arch of flowers that filled the air with fragrance.
"Stay here until I come back for you," she whispered, as she turned, and disappeared among the throng.
Flitting hither and thither like a sunbeam, she paused until she discovered Louis, with Minnette leaning on his arm, calling up the smiles and blushes to her face at his all-powerful will.
"Louis! Louis! come with me! I want you a moment. You'll excuse him, Minnette, will you not?" said Gipsy.
"Oh, certainly!" said Minnette, with a radiant look, little dreaming for what purpose he was taken from her.
Passing her arm through his, Gipsy led him to where he could obtain a full view of Celeste, without being seen by her.
"Look!" she said, pointing.
He looked, started suddenly, and then stood like one transfixed, with his eyes riveted to the glorious vision before him.
She stood under the flowery canopy, robed in white, crowned with roses, leaning against a marble statue of Hebe, herself a thousand times lovelier than that exquisitely sculptured form and face. This was his ideal, found at last—this the face and figure that had haunted his dreams all his life, but had never been found before; just such an angelic creature he had striven all his life to produce on canvas, and always failed. He stood motionless, enchanted, drinking in to intoxication the bewildering draught of her beauty.
"Louis," said Gipsy, laying her hand on his arm.