Harrowfield House, as every one knows, is one of the finest in London;
and with the worst manners, and an inordinate insolence, Lady
Harrowfield ruled her section of society with a rod of iron. Indeed, all
sections coveted the invitations of this disagreeable lady.
Her path was strewn with lovers, and protected by a proud and complacent
husband, who had realized early he never would be master of the
situation, and had preferred peace to open scandal.
She was a woman of sixty now, and, report said, still had her lapses.
But every incident was carried off with a high-handed, brazen daring,
and an assumption of right and might and prerogative which paralyzed
criticism.
So it was that with the record of a demimondaine--and not one kind
action to her credit--Lady Harrowfield still held her place among the
spotless, and ruled as a queen.
There was not above two years' difference between her age and Lady
Bracondale's; indeed, the latter had been one of her bridesmaids; but
no one to look at them at a distance could have credited it for a
minute.
Lady Harrowfield had golden hair and pink cheeks, and her embonpoint
retained in the most fashionable outline. And if towards two in the
morning, or when she lost at bridge, her face did remind on-lookers of a
hideous colored mask of death and old age--one can't have everything in
life; and Lady Harrowfield had already obtained more than the lion's
share.
This night in June she stood at the top of her splendid staircase,
blazing with jewels, receiving her guests, among whom more than one
august personage, English and foreign, was expected to arrive; and an
unusually sour frown disfigured the thick paint of her face.
It all seemed like fairy-land to Theodora as, accompanied by Josiah, and
preceded by Mrs. Devlyn, she early mounted the marble steps with the
rest of the throng.
She noticed the insolent stare of her hostess as she shook hands and
then passed on in the crowd.
She felt a little shy and nervous and excited withal. Every one around
seemed to have so many friends, and to be so gay and joyous, and only
she and Josiah stood alone. For Mrs. Devlyn felt she had done enough
for one night in bringing them there.
It was an immense crowd. At a smaller ball Theodora's exquisite beauty
must have commanded instant attention, but this was a special occasion,
and the world was too occupied with a desire to gape at the foreign king
to trouble about any new-comers. Certainly for the first hour or so.
Josiah was feeling humiliated. Not a creature spoke to them, and they
were hustled along like sheep into the ballroom.