Both Kitty and the goddess
of the Fronde knew that they must hold their own in a crowd. For this
there must be diamonds. The sleeves, therefore, on the white arms fell
back from diamond clasps; the ivory spear in her right hand was topped
by a small genius with glittering wings; and in the masses of her fair
hair, bound with pearl fillets, shone the large diamond crescent that
Lady Tranmore had foreseen, with one small attendant star at either
side.
[Illustration: THE FINISHING TOUCHES]
"Well, upon my word, Kitty!" said a voice from her husband's
dressing-room.
Kitty turned impetuously.
"Do you like it?" she cried. Ashe approached. She lifted her horn to her
mouth and stood tiptoe. The movement was enchanting; it had in it the
youth and freshness of spring woods; it suggested mountain distances and
the solitudes of high valleys. Intoxication spoke in Ashe's pulses; he
wished the maids had been far away that he might have taken the goddess
in his very human arms. Instead of which he stood lazily smiling.
"What Endymion are you calling?" he asked her. "Kitty, you are a dream!"
Kitty pirouetted, then suddenly stopped short and held out a foot.
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