The great ball at the Palais had been the object of absorbing
interest to the fashionable society of the Capital for many weeks.
It came on at last, turning the heads of half the city with its
splendor.
Angelique shone the acknowledged queen of the Intendant's ball.
Her natural grace and beauty, set off by the exquisite taste and
richness of her attire, threw into eclipse the fairest of her
rivals. If there was one present who, in admiration of her own
charms, claimed for herself the first place, she freely conceded to
Angelique the second. But Angelique feared no rival there. Her
only fear was at Beaumanoir. She was profoundly conscious of her
own superiority to all present, while she relished the envy and
jealousy which it created. She cared but little what the women
thought of her, and boldly challenging the homage of the men,
obtained it as her rightful due.
Still, under the gay smiles and lively badinage which she showered
on all around as she moved through the brilliant throng, Angelique
felt a bitter spirit of discontent rankling in her bosom.
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