At length the much-expected evening came, and the arriving guests found that the ball had been planned on a scale such as Madeira had never before beheld.  The night was lovely and sufficiently still to admit of the illumination of the gardens by means of Chinese lanterns that glowed all around in hundreds, and were even hung like golden fruit amongst the topmost leaves of the lofty cabbage palms, and from the tallest sprays of the bamboos.  Within, the scene was equally beautiful.  The suite of three reception-rooms had been thrown into one, two for dancing, and one for use as a sitting-room.  They were quite full, for the Madeira season was at its height, and all the English visitors who were “anybody” were there.  There happened, too, to be a man-of-war in the harbour, every man-jack, or, rather, every officer-jack of which, with the exception of those on watch—­and they were to be relieved later on—­was there, and prepared to enjoy himself with a gusto characteristic of the British sailor-man.

The rooms, too, were by no means devoid of beauty, but by far the loveliest woman in them was Mrs. Carr herself.  She was simply dressed in a perfectly-fitting black satin gown, looped up with diamond stars that showed off the exquisite fairness of her skin to great perfection.  Her ornaments were also diamonds, but such diamonds—­not little flowers and birds constructed of tiny stones, but large single gems, each the size of a hazel-nut.  On her head she wore a tiara of these, eleven stones in all, five on each side, and surmounted over the centre of the forehead by an enormous gem as large as a small walnut, which, standing by itself above the level of the others, flashed and blazed like a fairy star.  Around her neck, wrists, and waist were similar points of concentrated light, that, shining against the black satin as she moved, gave her a truly magnificent appearance.  Never before had Mildred Carr looked so perfectly lovely, for her face and form were well worthy of the gems and dress; indeed, most of the men there that night thought her eyes as beautiful as her diamonds.

The ball opened with a quadrille, but in this Mrs. Carr did not dance, being employed in the reception of her guests.  Then followed a waltz, and, as its first strains struck up, several applicants came to compete for the honour of her hand; but she declined them all, saying that she was already engaged; and presently Arthur, looking very tall and quite the typical young Englishman in his dress-clothes, came hurrying up.

“You are late, Mr. Heigham,” she said; “the music has begun.”

“Yes; I am awfully sorry.  I was dancing with Lady Florence, and could not find her old aunt.”

“Indeed, to me Mrs. Velley is pretty conspicuous, with that green thing on her head; but come along, we are wasting time.”

Putting his arm round her waist, they sailed away together amidst of the murmurs of the disappointed applicants.