“Your ladyship will be the benefactress of the whole family if you can rescue our young hero, and help us make him in some degree fit for the age he lives in.”

Lady Amelie smiled; there was not much fear in her failing in anything she undertook.

“It is not often that young men err on the side of originality and singularity,” she said; “I have always considered realism the sin of the age.  I am quite curious to see your hero, Colonel Mostyn.”

“I believe he is quite as anxious to see you.  Lady Lisle; he positively asked me to introduce him to you, and that is a request he has never made before, though I have shown him some beautiful women.”

“I ought to feel flattered,” said Lady Amelie, and again there was something in her smile that made the colonel wonder whether he had done amiss.

“We are quite in a conspiracy,” he said, and Lady Lisle laughingly assured him that all women were fond of plots.

“Your sex, my dear colonel, are so strong and so wise that it is a real pleasure to any poor weak woman to outwit you.”  And Lady Amelie shot him a glance from her beautiful eyes that made the colonel again half pity his young kinsman.

CHAPTER IX.

Weaving the Spell.

The Duchess of Hexham bore the reputation of being a most accomplished woman; if she excelled in anything it was certainly the giving of balls.  She had the largest, loftiest and best ball-room in London.  It was never overcrowded.

“As many flowers as possible,” she was in the habit of saying; “but we must limit our guests.”

It did not matter either who was fashionable and who was not, the duchess would have nothing but beauty and grace at her balls.  You were sure at Hexham House to meet the most beautiful women in London and the most eligible men.  It was consequently agreed on all sides that her grace gave the best balls during the season.  This one at which Lady Amelie was to be present, promised unusual splendor.

An archduke of one of the European courts was just then the guest of the queen, and he had promised to honor Hexham House with his presence.

“He shall see such lovely women,” said the duchess to her husband, “that he shall go back to his own country in despair.”

To Lady Amelie she had said, laughingly:  “Look your very loveliest.  I want you to make a conquest of the archduke.”

And that queen of coquettes thought to herself that her hands on that eventful evening would indeed be full.  Not one word did the diplomatic old colonel say to Basil, but that young man was not quite himself.  He had been wonderfully attracted by Lady Lisle’s face; he read poetry, love of romance and everything else beautiful and piquant in it.  Of all the women he had seen she was the only one who had interested him.  He wondered whether the mind matched the peerless face.  She must be clever, witty, brilliant, he thought, or she would not have kept all those men enchained as she did.  He was very anxious to see her again.