ash Springs, who had now become the
Marquise de Trezac. Undine knew that Chelles and his compatriots,
however scandalized at her European companions, would be completely
indifferent to Mrs. Rolliver's appearance; but one gesture of Madame de
Trezac's eye-glass would wave Indiana to her place and thus brand the
whole party as "wrong."

All this passed through Undine's mind in the very moment of her
noting the change of expression with which Chelles had signalled
his recognition. If their encounter could have occurred in happier
conditions it might have had far-reaching results. As it was, the
crowded state of the tea-room, and the distance between their tables,
sufficiently excused his restricting his greeting to an eager bow; and
Undine went home heavy-hearted from this first attempt to reconstruct
her past.

Her spirits were not lightened by the developments of the next few
days. She kept herself well in the foreground of Indiana's life,
and cultivated toward the rarely-visible Rolliver a manner in which
impersonal admiration for the statesman was tempered with the politest
indifference to the man. Indiana seemed to do justice to her efforts and
to be reassured by the result; but still there came no hint of a
reward. For a time Undine restrained the question on her lips; but one
afternoon, when she had inducted Indiana into the deepest mysteries
of Parisian complexion-making, the importance of the service and the
confidential mood it engendered seemed to warrant a discreet allusion to
their bargain.

Indiana leaned back among her cushions with an embarrassed laugh.

"Oh, my dear, I've been meaning to tell you--it's off, I'm afraid. The
dinner is, I mean. You see, Mr. Van Degen has seen you 'round with me,
and the very minute I asked him to come and dine he guessed--"

"He guessed--and he wouldn't?"

"Well, no. He wouldn't. I hate to tell you."

"Oh--" Undine threw off a vague laugh. "Since you're intimate enough for
him to tell you THAT he must, have told you more--told you something to
justify his behaviour. He couldn't--even Peter Van Degen couldn't--just
simply have said to you: 'I wont see her.'"

Mrs. Rolliver hesitated, visibly troubled to the point of regretting her
intervention.

"He DID say more?" Undine insisted. "He gave you a reason?

"He said you'd know."

"Oh how base--how base!" Undine was trembling with one of her
little-girl rages, the storms of destructive fury before which Mr. and
Mrs.