"Oh, I have played so often in private theatricals; I have even quite a
collection of little pots of color, hare's-feet stumps, pencils, et
cetera."

"Ah! you have, you rascal! Are you going to the fancy ball at the
Embassy to-morrow?"

"Yes, aunt; and you, are you going in character?"

"One must, since every one else will. They say the effect will be
splendid." After a silence: "I shall wear powder; do you think it will
suit me?"

"Better than any one, my dear aunt; you will look adorable, I feel
certain."

"We shall see, you little courtier."

She rose, gave me her hand to kiss with an air of exquisite grace, and
seemed about to withdraw, then, seemingly changing her mind:

"Since you are going to the Embassy to-morrow, Ernest, call for me; I
will give you a seat in the carriage. You can give me your opinion on my
costume, and then," she broke into a laugh, and taking me by the hand,
added in my ear: "Bring your little pots and come early. This is between
ourselves." She put her finger to her lip as a signal for discretion.
"Till tomorrow, then."