She had been threatened by Lord
Rosmore, she had been insulted by her uncle and the men and women who
were his companions, but, worst of all, she had been deceived by the man
who had for so long occupied her thoughts and whom she had trusted.
The opportunity to forget her troubles in a round of pleasure was soon
forthcoming. At a sign a dozen men were ready to throw themselves at her
feet, and a score more were only restrained by the apparent hopelessness
of their case. She was a queen and her courtiers were many; music and
laughter were the atmosphere about her; her slightest wish immediately
became a command, and she became the standard by which others were
judged. Barbara was young and enjoyed it, as any young girl would. There
were moments when her laughter and merry voice had no trace of trouble
in them, when it would have been difficult to believe that a cloud had
ever hung in her life; but there were other times when her eyes looked
beyond the gay crowd by which she was surrounded, when her attention
could not be fixed, and when her face had sadness in it. She was
conscious of sorrow and tears under all the music and laughter.
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