The night of nights for the heiress came.  After dinner Claudia indulged herself in a long nap, so that she might be quite fresh in the evening.  When she woke up she took a cup of tea, and immediately retired to her chamber to dress.

Mrs. Middleton superintended her toilet.

Claudia wore a rich point-lace dress over a white satin skirt.  The wreath that crowned her head, the necklace that reposed upon her bosom, the bracelets that clasped her arms, the girdle that enclosed her waist, and the bunches of flowers that festooned her upper lace dress, were all of the same rich pattern—­lilies of the valley, whose blossoms were formed of pearl, whose leaves were of emeralds, and whose dew was of diamonds.  Snowy gloves and snowy shoes completed this toilet, the effect of which was rich, chaste, and elegant beyond description.  Mrs. Middleton wore a superb dress of ruby-colored velvet.

When they were both quite ready, they went down into the drawing room, where Judge Merlin, Mr. Middleton, and Ishmael were awaiting them, and where Claudia’s splendid presence suddenly dazzled them.  Mr. Middleton and Judge Merlin gazed upon the radiant beauty with undisguised admiration.  And Ishmael looked on with a deep, unuttered groan.  How dared he love this stately, resplendent queen?  How dared he hope she would ever deign to notice him?  But the next instant he reproached himself for the groan and the doubt—­how could he have been so fooled by a mere shimmer of satin and glitter of jewels?

Judge Merlin and Mr. Middleton were in the conventional evening dress of gentlemen, and were quite ready to attend the ladies.  They had nothing to do, therefore, but to hand them to the carriage, which they accordingly did.  The party of four, Mr. and Mrs. Middleton, Judge Merlin, and Claudia, drove off.

Ishmael and Beatrice remained at home.  Ishmael to study his law books; Beatrice to give the boys their supper and see that the nurses took proper care of the children.

CHAPTER LII.

AN EVENING AT THE PRESIDENT’S.

  There was a sound of revelry by night—­
    “Columbia’s” capital had gathered then
  Her beauty and her chivalry:  and bright
    The lamps shone o’er fair women and brave men. 
  A thousand hearts beat happily; and when
    Music arose with its voluptuous swell,
  Soft eyes looked love to eyes that spoke again,
    And all went merry as a marriage bell.

  —­Byron.

The carriage rolled along Pennsylvania Avenue.  The weather had changed since sunset, and the evening was misty with a light, drizzling rain.  Yet still the scene was a gay, busy, and enlivening one; the gas lamps that lighted the Avenue gleamed brightly through the rain drops like smiles through tears; the sidewalks were filled with pedestrians, and the middle of the street with vehicles, all going in one direction, to the President’s palace.