May I introduce her?--Alicia!"
A young lady had entered, from a curtained archway dividing the hall
from a passage beyond. She paused a moment examining the company. The
dark curtain behind her made an effective background for the brilliance
of her hair, dress, and complexion, of which fact--such at least was
Diana's instant impression--she was most composedly aware. At least she
lingered a few leisurely seconds, till everybody in the hall had had the
opportunity of marking her entrance. Then beckoned by Oliver Marsham,
she moved toward Diana.
"How do you do? I suppose you've had a long drive? Don't you hate
driving?"
And without waiting for an answer, she turned affectedly away, and took
a place at the tea-table where room had been made for her by two young
men. Reaching out a white hand, she chose a cake, and began to nibble it
slowly, her elbows resting on the table, the ruffles of white lace
falling back from her bare and rounded arms. Her look meanwhile, half
absent, half audacious, seemed to wander round the persons near, as
though she saw them, without taking any real account of them.
"What have you been doing, Alicia, all this time?" said Marsham, as he
handed her a cup of tea.
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