as the garb of a gay lady who might justly go to the Governor's ball.

Half frightened at her own success, Mistress Stagg hovered around her,
giving this or that final touch to her costume; but it was Haward himself
who put the roses in her hair. "A little longer, and we will walk once
more in my garden at Fair View," he said. "June shall come again for us,
and we will tread the quiet paths, my sweet, and all the roses shall bloom
again for us. There, you are crowned! Hail, Queen!"

Audrey felt the touch of his lips upon her forehead, and shivered. All her
world was going round; she could not steady it, could not see aright, knew
not what was happening. The strangeness made her dizzy. She hardly heard
Mistress Stagg's last protest that it would never do,--never in the world;
hardly knew when she left the house. She was out beneath the stars, moving
toward a lit Palace whence came the sound of violins. Haward's arm was
beneath her hand; his voice was in her ear, but it was as the wind's
voice, whose speech she did not understand. Suddenly they were within the
Palace garden, with its winding, torchlit walks, and the terraces at the
side; suddenly again, they had mounted the Palace steps, and the doors
were open, and she was confronted with lights and music and shifting,
dazzling figures. She stood still, clasped her hands, and gave Haward a
piteous look. Her face, for all its beauty and its painted roses, was
strangely the child's face that had lain upon his breast, where he knelt
amid the corn, in the valley between the hills, so long ago. He gave her
mute appeal no heed. The Governor's guests, passing from room to room,
crossed and recrossed the wide hall, and down the stairway, to meet a row
of gallants impatient at its foot, came fair women, one after the other,
the flower of the colony, clothed upon like the lilies of old. Haward,
entering with Audrey, saw Mr. Lee at the stairfoot, and, raising his eyes,
was aware of Evelyn descending alone and somewhat slowly, all in rose