eal life when people were noticing her.
Her incessant movements were not the result of shyness: she thought it
the correct thing to be animated in society, and noise and restlessness
were her only notion of vivacity. She therefore watched herself
approvingly, admiring the light on her hair, the flash of teeth between
her smiling lips, the pure shadows of her throat and shoulders as she
passed from one attitude to another. Only one fact disturbed her: there
was a hint of too much fulness in the curves of her neck and in the
spring of her hips. She was tall enough to carry off a little extra
weight, but excessive slimness was the fashion, and she shuddered at the
thought that she might some day deviate from the perpendicular.

Presently she ceased to twist and sparkle at her image, and sinking into
her chair gave herself up to retrospection. She was vexed, in looking
back, to think how little notice she had taken of young Marvell, who
turned out to be so much less negligible than his brilliant friend. She
remembered thinking him rather shy, less accustomed to society; and
though in his quiet deprecating way he had said one or two droll things
he lacked Mr. Popple's masterly manner, his domineering yet caressing
address. When Mr. Popple had fixed his black eyes on Undine, and
murmured something "artistic" about the colour of her hair, she had
thrilled to the depths of her being. Even now it seemed incredible that
he should not turn out to be more distinguished than young Marvell: he
seemed so much more in the key of the world she read about in the Sunday
papers--the dazzling auriferous world of the Van Degens, the Driscolls
and their peers.

She was roused by the sound in the hall of her mother's last words to
Mrs. Heeny. Undine waited till their adieux were over; then, opening her
door, she seized the astonished masseuse and dragged her into the room.
Mrs. Heeny gazed in admiration at the luminous apparition in whose hold
she found herself.

"Mercy, Undine--you do look stunning! Are you trying on your dress for
Mrs. Fairford's?"

"Yes--no--this is only an old thing." The girl's eyes glittered under
their black brows. "Mrs. Heeny, you've got to tell me the truth--ARE
they as swell as you said?"

"Who? The Fairfords and Marvells? If they ain't swell enough for you.
Undine Spragg, you'd better go right over to the court of England!"

Undine straightened herself. "I want the best. Are they as swell as the
Driscolls and