"I am coming," said he; then, taking the hand of his client, he led her to the door, repeating: "Do not worry yourself; all the difficulties shall be got through.

Come again, and we will talk them over;" and before she could thank him he was half way to his daughter's apartment.

Flavia had summoned her father to show him a new costume which had just been sent home by Van Klopen, and which pleased her greatly.

Flavia's costume was a masterpiece of fashionable bad taste, which makes women look all alike and destroys all appearance of individuality.

It was a mass of frills, furbelows, fringes, and flutings of rare hue and form, making a series of wonderful contrasts.
Standing in the middle of the room, with every available candle alight, for the day was fading away, she was so dainty and pretty that even the _bizarre_ dress of Van Klopen's was unable to spoil her appearance.