For she stood tall, lithe, of grace inborn, her dark waving hair high piled and crossed by gold bands studded with amethyst and at one side an enamelled lavender orchid rimmed with diamonds, which flashed and sparkled.  The soft yellow robe of lightest weight velvet fitted her form perfectly, while from each shoulder fell a great velvet wing lined with lavender, and flecked with embroidery of that colour in imitation of the moth.  Around her throat was a wonderful necklace and on her arms were bracelets of gold set with amethyst and rimmed with diamonds.  Philip had said that her gloves, fan, and slippers must be lavender, because the feet of the moth were that colour.  These accessories had been made to order and embroidered with gold.  It had been arranged that her mother, Philip’s, and a few best friends should receive his guests.  She was to appear when she led the grand march with Philip Ammon.  Miss Carr was positive that she would be the most beautiful, and most exquisitely gowned woman present.  In her heart she thought of herself as “Imperialis Regalis,” as the Yellow Empress.  In a few moments she would stun her world into feeling it as Philip Ammon had done, for she had taken pains that the history of her costume should be whispered to a few who would give it circulation.  She lifted her head proudly and waited, for was not Philip planning something unusual and unsurpassed in her honour?  Then she smiled.

But of all the fragmentary thoughts crossing her brain the one that never came was that of Philip Ammon as the Emperor.  Philip the king of her heart; at least her equal in all things.  She was the Empress—­yes, Philip was but a mere man, to devise entertainments, to provide luxuries, to humour whims, to kiss hands!

“Ah, my luck!” cried a voice behind her.

Edith Carr turned and smiled.

“I thought you were on the ocean,” she said.

“I only reached the dock,” replied the man, “when I had a letter that recalled me by the first limited.”

“Oh!  Important business?”

“The only business of any importance in all the world to me.  I’m triumphant that I came.  Edith, you are the most superb woman in every respect that I have ever seen.  One glimpse is worth the whole journey.”

“You like my dress?” She moved toward him and turned, lifting her arms.  “Do you know what it is intended to represent?”

“Yes, Polly Ammon told me.  I knew when I heard about it how you would look, so I started a sleuth hunt, to get the first peep.  Edith, I can become intoxicated merely with looking at you to-night.”

He half-closed his eyes and smilingly stared straight at her.  He was taller than she, a lean man, with close-cropped light hair, steel-gray eyes, a square chin and “man of the world” written all over him.

Edith Carr flushed.  “I thought you realized when you went away that you were to stop that, Hart Henderson,” she cried.