Escorting the fair ones to Mrs. Santon’s side, he proudly gazed upon their dazzling beauty,—­beauty in its perfection sitting upon each countenance, and yet, such a contrast!  Winnie was arrayed in a rich attire of delicate blue, her boddice wrought about with silver threads, representing the light of the crescent moon, her skirt interwoven with numerous lesser lights, as it were, stars of various magnitudes, producing a splendid effect in the flood of gas-light; and the set of diamonds bound about her dark tresses, which fell in rich profusion about her finely arched neck, setting off her dark complexion, her cheeks roseate with health, to great advantage; and as she moved among her guests; her tall, slender form, so full of dignity, she was the “observed of all observers.”  Her winning smile, so dangerous to those gallants in attendance who had never realized the true sense of coquetry, was unusually fascinating, and every one who had been honored by Miss Winnie’s notice, pronounced her decidedly the belle of the season; but as they turned to the gentle creature at her side, their thoughts gradually assumed a different cast,—­unconsciously the mind wandered to other scenes than are usually of a fashionable evening entertainment.  It were absurd to call her a “belle,” for the word seemed void of expression.

The Sea-flower wore a simple dress of white blonde, with no other ornament than the band of pearls, which had been the gift of her well-loved friends.  The little star, which was formed by the glittering of the diamonds through the delicately-wrought pearl, which being the centre of the collection was worn upon her forehead, sparkling like tiny drops of dew; and as she glided with unstudied grace among those who sought to know more of her, she gained the name of “the gentle star.”

It was yet early in the evening.  Sauntering along one of the principal streets were two young men, engaged in conversation.  We will listen awhile, for we may be interested.

“Do you go to Santon’s to-night, Delwood?” asked the younger of the two, who was far less prepossessing in appearance than his companion.

“Umph,—­yes,” replied the other, in a more reserved tone.  “Do you make one of the number?”

“You don’t know Dick Montague if you think he would miss of such an occasion.  Wit and beauty do not hold forth every night.  Old Santon has but one daughter, you know.”

Mr. Delwood made no reply to these coarse remarks, for nothing could have been in greater contrast, than the refined, gentlemanly nature of Mr. Delwood, to that of young Montague, whom we recognize as the same gentleman (if such young men who wear two faces, putting aside the decorum of intelligent society, for the rude jests and unrefined manners of other associates, can be called gentlemen,) who had attracted Mrs. Santon’s notice by his frequent visits to her daughter.  Before proceeding farther, we will give our patient reader a little insight to the history of these two personages, whom we consider of sufficient note in our simple narrative, for inducing us to tear ourselves away, for a little while, from the attractions at Santon Mansion.