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206
ETHEL CHURCHILL.



CHAPTER XXI.


THE TOILETS.


Bring from the east, bring from the west,
Flowers for the hair, gems for the vest;
Bring the rich silks that are shining with gold,
Wrought in rich broidery on every fold.

Bring ye the perfumes that breathe on the rose,
Such as the summer of Egypt bestows;
Bring the white pearls from the depths of the sea—
They are fair like the neck where their lustre will be.

Such are the offerings that now will be brought,
But can they bring peace to the turmoil of thought?
Can they one moment of quiet bestow
To the human heart, feverish and beating, below?


The next chamber was that of Mrs. Courtenaye. For the first time since her husband's death, she had thrown off her weeds, and put on attire more suited to the occasion. She was richly, yet plainly dressed, in a purple velvet, with a hood of white point lace. Even