The Three Miss Kings by Ada Cambridge — Read

It was a pity that Paul Brion, looking at Patty's charming figure in the gaslight, could not have looked into her heart. It is a pity, for us all, that there is no Palace of Truth amongst our sacred edifices, into which we could go -- say, once a week -- and show ourselves as we are to our neighbours and ourselves. If we could know our friends from our enemies, whom to trust and whom to shun -- if we could vindicate ourselves from the false testimony of appearances in the eyes of those whom we love and by whom we desire to be loved -- not to speak of larger privileges -- what a different world it would be! But we can't, unfortunately. And so Paul carried away with him the impression that his Patty had become a fine lady -- too fine to have any longer a thought for him -- than which he had never conceived a baser calumny in his life.

Nor was he the only one who misread her superficial aspect that night. Mrs. Duff-Scott, the most discerning of women, had a fixed belief that her girls, all of them, thoroughly enjoyed their first ball. From the moment that they entered the room, a few minutes in advance of the Governor's party, received by a dozen or two of hosts drawn up in line on either side of the doorway, it was patent to her that they would do her every sort of credit; and this anticipation, at any rate, was abundantly realised. For the greater part of the evening she herself was enthroned under the gallery, which roofed a series of small drawing-rooms on this occasion, eminently adapted to matronly requirements; and from her arm-chair or sofa corner she looked out through curtains of esthetic hues upon the pretty scene which had almost as fresh an interest for her to-night as it had for them.