her boots. Here's your boots, my love!" she added cheerfully, looking in all directions for the children. There was no answer, and she turned to Lady Muriel with a puzzled smile. "Have the little darlings hid themselves?"
"I don't see them, just now," Lady Muriel replied, rather evasively. "You can leave their things here, Wilson. I'll dress them, when they're ready to go."
The two little hats, and Sylvie's walking-jacket, were handed round among the ladies, with many exclamations of delight. There certainly was a sort of witchery of beauty about them. Even the little boots did not miss their share of favorable criticism. "Such natty little things!" the musical young lady exclaimed, almost fondling them as she spoke. "And what tiny tiny feet they must have!"
Finally, the things were piled together on the centre-ottoman, and the guests, despairing of seeing the children again, began to wish goodnight and leave the house.
There were only some eight or nine leftto whom the Count was explaining, for the twentieth time, how he had had his eye on the
