And then after all came
another vision, "the last, the brightest, the best - the
Midnight Queen" herself. One other figure followed her, and as
they entered, a shout arose from the whole assemblage, "Long live
Queen Miranda!" And bowing gracefully and easily to the right
end left, the queen with a queenly step, trod the long crimson
carpet and mounted the regal throne.
From the first moment of his looking down, Sir Norman had been
staring with all the eyes in his head, undergoing one shock of
surprise after another with the equanimity of a man quite need to
it; but now a cry arose to his lips, and died there in voiceless
consternation. For he recognized the queen - well he might! - he
had seen her before, and her face was the face of Leoline!
As she mounted the stairs, she stood there for a moment crowned
and sceptred, before sitting down, and in that moment he
recognized the whole scene. That gorgeous room and its gorgeous
inmates; that regal throne and its regal owner, all became
palpable as the sun at noonday; that slender, exquisite figure,
robed in royal purple and ermine; the uncovered neck and arms,
snowy and perfect, ablaze with jewels; that lovely face, like
snow, like marble, in its whiteness end calm, with the great,
dark, earnest eyes looking out, and the waving wealth of hair
falling around it.
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