Chapter 29

The early spring found Undine once more in Paris.

She had every reason to be satisfied with the result of the course she
had pursued since she had pronounced her ultimatum on the subject of
Raymond de Chelles. She had continued to remain on the best of terms
with the Princess, to rise in the estimation of the old Duchess, and
to measure the rapidity of her ascent in the upward gaze of Madame de
Trezac; and she had given Chelles to understand that, if he wished to
renew their acquaintance, he must do so in the shelter of his venerable
aunt's protection.

To the Princess she was careful to make her attitude equally clear. "I
like your cousin very much--he's delightful, and if I'm in Paris this
spring I hope I shall see a great deal of him. But I know how easy it is
for a woman in my position to get talked about--and I have my little boy
to consider."

Nevertheless, whenever Chelles came over from Beaulieu to spend a
day with his aunt and cousin--an excursion he not infrequently
repeated--Undine was at no pains to conceal her pleasure. Nor was there
anything calculated in her attitude. Chelles seemed to her more charming
than ever, and the warmth of his wooing was in flattering contrast to
the cool reserve of his manners. At last she felt herself alive and
young again, and it became a joy to look in her glass and to try on her
new hats and dresses...

The only menace ahead was the usual one of the want of money. While she
had travelled with her parents she had been at relatively small expense,
and since their return to America Mr. Spragg had sent her allowance
regularly; yet almost all the money she had received for the pearls was
already gone, and she knew her Paris season would be far more expensive
than the quiet weeks on the Riviera.

Meanwhile the sense of reviving popularity, and the charm of Chelles'
devotion, had almost effaced the ugly memories of failure, and
refurbished that image of herself in other minds which was her only
notion of self-seeing. Under the guidance of Madame de Trezac she had
found a prettily furnished apartment in a not too inaccessible quarter,
and in its light bright drawing-room she sat one June afternoon
listening, with all the forbearance of which she was capable, to the
counsels of her newly-acquired guide.

"Everything but marriage--" Madame de Trezac was repeating, her long
head slightly tilted, her features wearing the rapt look of an adept
reciting a hallowed formula.

Raymond de Chelles had not been mentioned by either of the ladies, and
the former Miss Wincher was merely imparting to her young friend one of
the fundamental dogmas of her social creed; but Undine was conscious
that the air between them vibrated