– Come, my dear, the days of my splendour are behind me, and I am now the aged mother of two grown-up sons and the grandmother of three grandchildren! – Lady Cranford splashed her hands theatrically. – What a marvellous costume. But, Anthony, couldn't you have chosen something a little less dark? Black for one of the most highly anticipated events of the year? After all, you have so much in your wardrobe… What's that on your shoulder? – She carefully removed a long dark hair from her son's surtoute and looked up into Anthony's face in surprise. – A woman's hair? How did it end up on your coat?

– Emily must have dropped it when she was cleaning my coat," the young man shrugged and turned to the maid and gave her a cold look: – 'Next time, Emily, watch your hair.

– I beg your pardon, Mr. Cranford," Emily replied in a resigned tone. – Your bed is ready. What else do you want?

– Nothing. Go. No, stay. Bring me a glass of brandy," Anthony told her.

– Right away, Mr. Cranford. – Emily made a quick curtsy and hurried out of the chambers, lest her stern hostess should notice her flushed cheeks and slightly dishevelled hair, which would lead the lady to think that ten minutes ago her own son had been having an affair with a maid.

But Emily had nothing to fear: Lady Cranford's thoughts were centred on the coming ball, and she paid no attention to the maid. Why should she look after a maid when her handsome son was at her side?

– Brandy, my dear? – The Countess frowned. – The carriage is waiting! In forty minutes we should be on our way to Lady Marlborough's. You know how I hate to be late.

– I need to cheer up," said Anthony. – The thought of being a dowry hunter so soon makes me cold. You know how disgusted I am with hunting.

Lady Cranford smiled softly and took her son's hand in her own.

– My dear boy, of course you are disgusted by this position, for you are so kind and honest, and your noble heart is disgusted by pretence. But you know that to charm a rich bride requires not only beauty and charm, but also flattery. We women are addicted to pretty phrases… If a glass of brandy will help you forget your high-minded principles, I don't mind. – Lady Cranford patted her son on the shoulder. – 'But please don't be late: in thirty-five minutes I'll be waiting for you in the hall, by the stairs.

– Mother, you are a marvellous thing. – Anthony drew his mother's palm to his lips and kissed her. – What about Vivian? Is she ready for the ball yet?

– Not yet, but it's not her fault. There's been such an embarrassment with the dresses she ordered! They were delivered to the wrong address and only arrived at Greenhall a few minutes ago.

– Where was my cousin's order delivered?

– Oh, I honestly don't know… But after all, it doesn't matter at all: Vivian's dresses are here, and I confess I hope her hands will be asked for in the coming days after tonight's debut. But you, too, my boy, don't delay: the sooner you marry, the better. But I must go…I await you in the hall!

The Countess left her son, and he sat on the soft sofa, waiting for the brandy his mistress was to bring him. When the giggling Emily had done as she was commanded, she was immediately sent away, and Anthony, savouring the drink, sank into his gloomy thoughts, which, however, did not prevent him from coming down the hall by the proper time.

"Mother was in such a hurry to see me, and she herself is evidently late. And Vivian, too, apparently. Oh, women!" – The young aristocrat thought with a mocking smile on his lips, but a moment later he heard quiet footsteps on the stairs, turned round and involuntarily held his breath. His heart shuddered with an overwhelming admiration: his cousin was coming down the stairs with the grace of a queen.

Vivian's splendour was dazzling.

She walked slowly down the marble staircase, quietly tapping the heels of her silk-trimmed, new white shoes. Her slender frame was emphasised by a beautiful white silk dress, embroidered with small flowers and cinched under her breasts with a wide white ribbon. Vivian wore dazzling white elbow-length gloves on her hands and short pearl beads around her neck. The girl's fiery hair was styled in a simple but beautiful style, with only a couple of curls framing her face. This simplicity, however, gave Vivian that elegance and a touch of aristocracy which is lacking in those who love feathers and bright jewellery.

The image of Miss Cowell, niece of the famous Dowager Countess Lady Cranford, was modest. Very modest. But this girl had no need of bright dresses, heavy jewellery or elaborate hairdos: her beauty was so mesmerising that if she had worn men's breeches and coat she would have been no less beautiful. All in white, like a graceful snow-white swan, Viviane was ready to win the hearts of men and destroy rivals: she knew that Mademoiselle de Croix was not the only hunter of the rich, because a dozen other girls who had already debuted this season, pursued the same goal. What a pity there are so few rich noble gentlemen, and so many aspiring maidens to be their spouses!

"Aphrodite, the goddess of love and beauty, must look just like that," said Anthony's mind, as he gazed at his cousin with fascinated eyes. – Could a mortal woman be like the goddess? Lord knows I wish Vivian were coming down into my arms right now. How I wish I could take her away right now into the sweet wilderness, sing songs of her unearthly beauty, and kiss her hands, her cheeks, her lips… And then… These foolish thoughts… Get out of my head! Viviane is going to the ball to find her way to luxury and wealth, and what could I give her? If Viviane were to reciprocate and become mine, poverty would swallow us both up. Is that what I wish for myself?"

– Good evening, cousin," said the girl affably. – You look beautiful: poor girls and their mothers: let them guard their hearts!

Anthony laughed softly, and, as his cousin descended the last steps, gallantly offered her his arm.

– Thank you," smiled Vivian. – But where is Aunt Beatrice?

– My mother has a habit of hurrying everyone and demanding punctuality, but she keeps everyone waiting for her. I remember that was a character trait my father disliked," replied Anthony, trying to suppress his admiration and appear indifferent to his cousin's appearance, to let her know that her beauty could captivate anyone but him.

– Oh, it is so like me! – laughed Vivian. – 'I assure you, dear cousin, this is the first time I have not been late, and even appeared before my time. But, Anthony, at the ball you must stay by my side and warn me if any black-hearted, miserly, card-loving or hard-drinking man should seek my attention.

'In that case, my nymph, you should stay away from me,' thought the young gentleman gloomily, but only smiled falsely and replied:

– 'I am afraid, my dear cousin, I cannot spend this evening by your side, though I am desperate to keep you away from ardent gamblers, drunkards and misers. You must realise my situation and that from tonight I am doomed to find a wealthy wife.

The girl smiled sadly.

– Yes, I am familiar with your difficulties. And you must know that I am very sorry, and I sincerely hope that very soon we shall see you in church, betrothed before God to a girl worthy of you. – She gently removed her palm from her cousin's palm. – But, pardon my curiosity, have you already got someone in mind? I swear I will keep it a secret.

Anthony shrugged his shoulders helplessly.

– Unfortunately, pretty rich heiresses are scarce this season. For that reason, I'm practically out of options. Mother wishes me to marry, and as soon as possible. But I agree with her impatience: marriage is the only sensible step for me to take.