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But even in a ball-room the race is not always to the swift, nor the battle to the strong; and before the festivity was half over it was generally admitted that the belle of the evening was a new arrival, a pale quiet young lady in blue and silver brocade who seemed greatly sought after by all sorts and conditions of dancing men, but who, after the manner of such fair potentates, confined her favours to one or two chosen partners. Something must be allowed for the charm of novelty; something to the delicate art of Julie Bond’s ideal creation, which, while it seemed on the surface to bring out the weak points of the wearer’s appearance—her paleness and want of contour—really accentuated by some subtle touches the colour of her sea-blue eyes and the grace of her slenderly made figure. The great secret, however, of her success was in the charm of her movements. She had carefully studied the art of dancing—as another branch of music, indeed—and the teaching of the best London experts had not been thrown away. Some people can dance by a happy instinct of nature, and when they are in the mood they impart a wild and elemental charm to the practice of this art, which others, guided only by the light of reason, can never hope to attain to. Alice, too, was thoroughly