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The Mangleses were among the first to arrive, Julia in a dress of rich black silk, with some green about it, and a number of iridescent beetle-wings serving as a relief. Miss Netty Cahere was a vision of pink and self-effacing quietness. "We shall know no one," she said, with a shrinking movement of her shoulders as they mounted the stairs.
My one comfort, as I gasped out spasmodic thanks, was this: I would look such a vulgar horror in the scarlet satin trimmed with green beetle-wings and gold fringe, that the Duchesse de Melun might fail to recognize Lys d'Angely.
On a chair stood a stack of photographs of statues and pictures, which it was his habit to exhibit, one by one, for the space of a day or two. The books on his shelves were as orderly as regiments of soldiers, and the backs of them shone like so many bronze beetle-wings; though, if you took one from its place you saw a shabbier volume behind it, since space was limited.
Set in dreamy and exquisite scenery, and moving in mystical dances, the green costume, like burnished beetle-wings, expressed all the elusive individuality of an elfin queen. But when personally confronted in what was still broad daylight, a man looked only at the woman's face.
Hee-o, wee-o, hear the pipes a-croonin', Like the dragon's beetle-wings a-droonin', Dyeea guard us from the Sword-man's quellin', Hee-o, wee-o, bairnie in our dwellin'! Hush thee, my baby O! hear the dogs bark, Herdin' the lammies home out o' the dark. Cradled and christened frae goblin's despite, House-folk we hear the kirk bells through the night.
The Rostopchine in pale purple, and the Grangeon in an Indian thing all incrusted with green beetle-wings, a thing for a museum. They are talking with a uniform whom I do not know. She was speaking of you this evening Antonia, asking me what you are doing. She has great faith in your talent." Gerald's lip curled a little sourly, and he stood looking upward without reply.
The blonde girl went into the grotto and, returning, brought with her a large teak board, upon which a Chinese sun-bird was enamelled. The bird was only half finished as yet, but it was the most artistic, tasteful, and delightful enamel-work I had ever seen, and all of it was composed of the delicate lids of the beetle-wings.
But the startling scarlet satin was Liberty satin, and therefore had a sheen, and a soft way of folding that redeemed it somewhat. Its bright poppy colour, its emerald beetle-wings shading to gold, and its glittering fringes that waved like a wheat-field stirred by a breeze, all gave a bizarre sort of "value," as artists say, to my pale yellow hair and dark eyes.
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