What charm have you used to bring him to your feet?"
"I did not know that he was at my feet," replied Beatrice. "You
like figurative language, Lady Everton."
"You will find I am right," returned lady Everton. "Remember I
was the first to congratulate you."
Beatrice wondered, in a sweet, vague way, if there could be
anything in it. She looked again at Lord Airlie. Surely any one
might be proud of the love of such a man. He caught her glance,
and her face flushed. In a moment he was by her side.
"Miss Earle," he said, eagerly, "you told me the other day you
liked flowers. If you have not been in the conservatory, may I
escort you there?"
She silently accepted his arm, and they went through the
magnificent suite of rooms into the cool, fragrant conservatory.
The pretty fountain in the midst rippled musically, and the lamps
gleamed like pale stars among masses of gorgeous color.
Beatrice was almost bewildered by the profusion of beautiful
plants. Tier upon tier of superb flowers rose until the eye was
dazzled by the varied hues and brightness--delicate white heaths
of rare perfection, flaming azaleas, fuchsias that looked like
showers of purple-red wine.
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