A few hours later, and Lady Lisle was seated in her boudoir, exquisitely
attired. She, who knew so well the effect of every fold in her dress, of
every flower she wore or carried; she, who had studied the art of
looking beautiful more completely than any other woman, had not
neglected her most potent charm. She wore a dinner dress of white silk,
with crimson flowers, that suited her dark, glowing beauty to
perfection. An elegant toilet! No jewels, but a massive golden bracelet
on one arm, and a golden chain of exquisite workmanship round her neck.
"I knew you would come," she said, looking up with a smile as Basil was
shown into her boudoir; "I knew you would not fail me. We shall have
time for a long conversation. Lord Lisle never reaches home until a
quarter of an hour before dinner, and then he has to hurry. Our guests
will not arrive until nearly eight, so we shall not be interrupted."
He looked round that little fairy nook, wondering at its elegance,
wondering at the soft, rosy light, at the fragrance of the white
daphnes, but more than all at the queenly loveliness of the beautiful
woman before him.
She sat in the very heart of the crimson glow, her glistening silken
dress sweeping in rich waves, and quite sure that her attitude, like
everything else about her, was perfect. She held out her hand to him,
with a smile that would have bewildered any man older and wiser than he.
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