“Do not say that, George!” The few words were almost a cry; and she closed her eyes, and clasped her small hands tightly.

“What have I said, Annie?”

“Nothing—­nothing—­only do not flatter me.”

“It is the very truth.”

“Let it pass?—­it is nothing.”  She was silent afterwards, like a person in pain; all her childlike gaiety gone; and Hyde having a full share of a man’s stupidity about matters of pure feeling, did not for one moment suspect why his praise should give her pain.  He thought her objection must come from some religious scruple.

The next evening however he had every reason to feel proud of his cousin.  She was really an exquisite little creature; angels would have given her all she wished, she was so charming.  The touch of phantasy and flame in her nature illumined her face, and no one could look at her without feeling that a fervent and transparent soul gazed from eyes, so lambent with soft spiritual fire.  This impression was enhanced by her childlike gown of white crape over soft white silk; it suggested her sweet fretless life, and also something unknown and unseen in her very simplicity.

Hyde, who was dressed in the very finest mode, was proud to take her on his arm; and the Earl watched them with a fond and faithful hope that all would soon fall out as he desired it.  He could not indeed imagine a man remaining unimpressed by a beauty so captivating to the highest senses.  “It will be as we wish,” he said to his Countess as they watched them entering the waiting coach; and she answered with that smile of admission, which has always its reserved opinion.

Mrs. Washington’s parlours were crowded when they entered them, but the splendid throng gave the highest expression of their approval possible, by that involuntary silence which indicates a pleased astonishment.  The Earl at once presented his niece to Mrs. Washington, and afterwards to the President, who as a guest of Mrs. Washington was walking about the rooms talking to the ladies present.  Resplendent in purple and white satin and the finest of laces, the august man captivated Lady Annie at the first glance.  She curtsied with inimitable grace, and would have kissed the hand he held out to her, had he permitted the homage.  For a few minutes he remained in conversation with the party, then he went forward, and Hyde turning with his beautiful charge, met Cornelia face to face.

They looked at each other as two disembodied souls might meet and look after death—­reproaching, questioning, entreating, longing.  Hyde flushed and paled, and could not for his very life make the slightest effort at recognition or speech.  Not a word would come.  He knew not what word to say.  Cornelia who had seen his entry was more prepared.  She gave him one long look of tender reproach as she passed, but she made no movement of recognition.  If she had said one syllable—­if she had paused one moment—­ if she had shown in