They belonged not to the life moving round her, but were shining in a land of their own, a land of promise.

By an instinct in each of them they stood listening for a moment to the last strains of the opera.
The light leaped higher in Hylda's eyes.
"Beautiful--oh, so beautiful!" she said, her hand touching the Duchess's arm.
The Duchess gave the slim warm fingers a spasmodic little squeeze.

"Yes, darling, beautiful," she rejoined; and then the crowd began to pour out behind them.
Their carriages were at the door.

Lord Windlehurst put Hylda in.

"The House is up," he said.