THE REDEMPTION OF ANTHONY
think I look like old Aunt Sadie from the country."
He laughed and looked at her, in the full bloom of her womanhood, brilliant, beautiful, perfectly poised, and began to voice his protest at her gibe, when suddenly he stopped and looked straight ahead, as if at a vision. The stream of people following stopped, too, and looked. At the far end of the room, two steps above the level of the ballroom floor, there was a door leading into the dining-room, which had been twined with vines and roses, and there, poised a minute before she descended, stood Priscilla, in her white tulle gown, her eyes shining, and the light on her yellow hair making an aureole about her head—Priscilla, like an artist's ideal of youth.
"Elaine, the Lily-maid," Drake murmured, half to himself. Then the moment passed, Peter led Priscilla into the room, the music began, and Mrs. Martin pulled herself together sharply.
"She's very lovely to-night, isn't she?"
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