of their woman’s witchery.  It made a charming spectacle of young and noble blood indulging in the abandon of the hour.  There were dames that set the pace for modest maidenhood, that ogled with the younger beaux,—­(as they do to this day).  Lady Bettie Payne swept her fingers over the keys of an Italian spinet, that was ornamented with precious stones, and sat upon a table of coral-veined wood; she sung soft and tenderly of the amours of Corydon, and neither her voice nor the low tinkling of the spinet reached to the further end of the room where Adrian Cantemir played upon the grand harpsichord a dashing piece that was intended to charm at least, the beauteous Katherine, who stood near.  Lord Cedric leant over and begged the Russian count to change the tune to a gavotte.  He did so, and Cedric brought forth Katherine and placed her fair to watch his step till she might catch the changes.  Thus he trained her carefully and with precision, and when Cantemir saw the trap that held him where he was and gave Lord Cedric the upper-hand, he fell into the spleen and played out of time, and Cedric flung around and caught his spur in Dame Seymour’s petticoats, and he swore beneath his breath, and Katherine smiled at his discomfiture and her own untutored grace, and she made bold and took a step or two on her own dependence.  Then there chimed eight from the old French clock of black boule that sat upon a cabinet of tortoise-shell, and it stirred the swains to think of donning ’broidered waist-coats and high-heeled shoon preparatory to the prandial hour, when fresh game and old wine would strengthen stomach and head; and they bowed low over tapering fingers and cast a parting dart at female hearts, and climbed the great oaken stairway to don their fine beaux’ dress.

‘Twas eleven o’ the clock when the gay company again entered the saloon; gentlemen in fresh curled periwigs and marvels of laces and ’broiderings.  They were gay with post-prandium cheer and flushed with wine.

Lord Cedric clapped his hands and immediately from some curtained passage or gallery there was music; each instrument seeming to lead in contrapuntal skill.  His Lordship led forth Katherine and others followed in the movement of the passacaille.  Mistress Penwick was beneath a great lustre that shone down and set her shoulder knot ablaze with brilliancy, when Lady Constance passed and noted it.  She bit her lip from sheer pain, for ’twas Cedric’s mother’s prized brooch, and through her heart fell a thunderbolt of fear; for now she knew he would not allow a baggage to wear a thing so valued by the mother whose memory he so loved.  She began to fear this beauteous thing could not be ousted so easily from her kinsman’s castle; and her heart rebelled at thought of losing him for spouse.  She raged within, reproaching herself for not hastening in woman’s way his avowal; then she trembled and grew sick at heart, as she saw his glances that were so full of love; glances for which she would give the world to win.