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 uncertain glance fell on Pembroke, and turned again on his wife. As for her, the same pallor showed under the delicate rouge on her cheek, but women rally more quickly under these things than men do. Besides, she had contemplated the possibility of meeting some of these people, and was not altogether unprepared for it.

If, however, the blankness of amazement had seized upon Olivia and Pembroke, and if the De Peysters were also a little unnerved by the strangeness of what was occurring before them, Colonel Berkeley was as cool as a cucumber. He held out his hand warmly. He rolled out his salutations in a loud, rich voice.

"Why, how do you do Eliza. You'll excuse an old man, my dear, for calling you by your first name, won't you? And my friend Ahlberg that was. This is delightful," he added, looking around as if to challenge the whole party.

In the midst of the strange sensations which agitated him, Pembroke could scarcely forbear from laughing at the Colonel's greeting, and the effect it produced. Madame Volkonsky flushed violently, still under her rouge, while Volkonsky's face was a study in its helpless rage. Poor Ryleief, with a mob of fine people surging up to be introduced, was yet so consumed with curiosity, that he held them all at bay, and looked from one to the other.

"Does Madame understand that gentleman?" he asked in French, eagerly—

"Of course she does, my dear fellow," heartily