[Frontispiece: "'My dear,' says Lady Etwynde to Lauraine, as she sits in the boudoir of the latter, 'your roses looked charming.'" (Chapter IX.)] A delicious gleam of sunshine streams through the curtained windows--flickers over the dainty arrangements of the toilet-table, loses itself in the white wonders of lace, linen, and embroidery strewed about in different directions, and finally wanders to a dusky head on the pillows, and plays at hide and seek over the closed eyelids of a very lovely face.…
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