CHAPTER I. THE MISTRESS OF CANEMA.

"Bills,Harry?—Yes.—Dearme,wherearethey?—There!—No.Here?—Oh,look!—Whatdoyouthinkofthisscarf?Isn'titlovely?" "Yes,MissNina,beautiful—but"— "Oh,thosebills!—Yes—well,heregoes—here—perhapsinthisbox.No—that'smyopera-hat.Bythebye,whatdoyouthinkofthat?Isn'tthatbunchofsilverwheatlovely?Stopabit—youshallseeitonme." And,withthesewords,theslightlittlefiguresprangupasifithadwings,and,hummingawaltzing-tune,skimmedacrosstheroomtoalooking-glass,andplacedthejauntylittlecaponthegaylittlehead,andthen,turningapirouetteononetoe,said,"There,now!" "There,now!"Ah,Harry!ah,mankindgenerally!thewisestofyouhavebeenmadefoolsofbyjustsuchdancing,glittering,flutteringlittleassortmentsofcurls,pendants,streamers,eyes,cheeks,anddimples! Thelittlefigure,scarcetheheightoftheVenus,roundedasthatofaninfant,wasshowntoadvantagebyacoquettishmorning-dressofbuffmuslin,whichflutteredopeninfronttodisplaytheembroideredskirt,andtrimlittlemouseofaslipper.Thefacewasoneofthoseprovokingoneswhichsetcriticismatdefiance.Thehair,waving,curling,dancinghitherandthither,seemedtohaveawild,laughinggraceofitsownthebrowneyestwinkledlikethependantsofachandelierthelittle,wickednose,whichboretheforbiddenupwardcurve,seemedtoassertitsrighttodosowithasaucyfreedomandthependantsofmultipliedbrilliantsthattwinkledinherears,andthenoddingwreathofsilverwheatthatsetoffheropera-hat,seemedalivewithmischiefandmotion. "Well,whatdoyouthink?"saidalively,imperativevoice,—justthekindofvoicethatyoumighthaveexpectedfromthefigure. Theyoungmantowhomthisquestionwasaddressedwasawell-dressed,gentlemanlypersonofaboutthirty-five,withdarkcomplexionandhair,anddeep,fullblueeyes.Therewassomethingmarkedandpeculiarinthesquare,highforehead,andthefinely-formedfeatures,whichindicatedtalentandabilityandtheblueeyeshadadepthandstrengthofcolorthatmightcausethematfirstglancetoappearblack.Theface,withitsstrongly-markedexpressionofhonestyandsense,hadaboutitmanycarewornandthoughtfullines.Helookedatthelittle,defiantfayforamomentwithanairofthemostentiredeferenceandadmirationthenaheavyshadowcrossedhisface,andheanswered,abstractedly,"Yes,MissNina,everythingyouwearbecomespretty—andthatisperfectlycharming." "Isn'tit,now,Harry?Ithoughtyouwouldthinkso.Yousee,it'smyownidea.YououghttohaveseenwhatathingitwaswhenIfirstsawitinMme.LeBlanche'swindow.Therewasagreathot-lookingfeatheronit,andtwoorthreehorridbows.Ihadthemoutinatwinkling,andgotthiswheatin—whichshakesso,youknow.It'sperfectlylovely!—Well,doyoubelieve,theverynightIworeittotheopera,Igotengaged?" "Engaged,MissNina?" "Engaged!—Yes,tobesure!Whynot?" "Itseemstomethat'saveryseriousthing,MissNina." "Serious!—ha!ha!ha!"saidthelittlebeauty,seatingherselfononearmofthesofa,andshakingtheglitteringhatbackfromhereyes."Well,Ifancyitwas—tohim,atleast.Imadehimserious,Icantellyou!" "Butisthistrue,MissNina?Areyoureallyengaged?" "Yes,tobesureIam—tothreegentlemenandgoingtostaysotillIfindwhichIlikebest.Maybe,youknow,Ishan'tlikeanyofthem." "Engagedtothreegentlemen,MissNina?" "Tobesure!—Can'tyouunderstandEnglish,Harry?Iamnow—fact." "MissNina,isthatright?" "Right?—whynot?Idon'tknowwhichtotake—Ipositivelydon'tsoItookt