Cruel As The Grave

At first they did not see Sybil, entrenched as she was behind her group

of admirers; but the moment that they did see her--and Sybil knew that

very moment--they modified their manners towards each other. And again

Sybil was more disgusted than pleased at what she thought confirmed her

worst suspicions of them.

At length the waltz was over. Lyon Berners led his fair partner to a

seat, left her there and came to speak to his wife. But it was not until

her group of admirers had separated to go in search of partners for the

ensuing quadrille, that he had an opportunity of speaking to her

privately.

"How are you enjoying yourself?" he inquired, on general principles.

"I am looking on. I am really interested in all these fooleries,"

answered Sybil evasively, but truly.

"Why were you not waltzing?"

"Why? Because I did not choose and could not have borne to have had my

waist encircled by any other man's arm than yours, Lyon," answered his

wife, very gravely.

"My darling Sybil, that comes of your old-fashioned notions and country

training; and it deprives you of giving and receiving much pleasure,"

answered Mr. Berners.

And before Sybil could reply to that, the Black Prince came up to claim

her promised hand in the quadrilles that were then forming.

Again, as she flashed like fire through and through the mazes of the

dance, her elegant figure, her graceful motions, and her dazzling,

flame-like dress was the general subject of enthusiastic admiration.

It was impossible but that some of this praise should reach the ears of

its object. And equally impossible that her own name should not be

coupled with it. So Sybil at length discovered that her identity was

known, to some persons certainly--to how many she could not even

conjecture.

Suddenly she resolved to try an experiment. She turned to her partner

and inquired: "Do you know me?"

"Not until you permit me to do so, Madam," answered the Black Prince,

very courteously.

"Your reply was worthy of a knight and prince! So I permit you to

recognize me," said Sybil.

"Then you are our beautiful hostess; and I am happy to greet you by your

real name, Mrs. Berners," said the Black Prince.

"Thanks," answered Sybil. "I saw that many persons knew me, and I wished

to ascertain whether you were among their number, and how you and others

found me out."

"Some diviner of spirits," laughed the Black Prince, "divined you, not

only through but by your costume, in its correspondence with your

character. And as soon as he made this discovery he hastened to

promulgate it. Then I, for one, perceived at once that the splendid

'Fire Queen' could be no other than a daughter of 'Berners of the

Burning Heart.' And now, Madam! am I permitted to introduce myself by

the name I bear in this humdrum world of reality, or has your

penetration already rendered such an introduction unnecessary?"