ice to-morrow, dearest?" the Princess suggested
a few evenings later as she followed Undine upstairs after a languid
evening at bridge with the Duchess and Madame de Trezac.

Half-way down the passage she stopped to open a door and, putting her
finger to her lip, signed to Undine to enter. In the taper-lit dimness
stood two small white beds, each surmounted by a crucifix and a palm
branch, and each containing a small brown sleeping child with a mop of
hair and a curiously finished little face. As the Princess stood gazing
on their innocent slumbers she seemed for a moment like a third little
girl scarcely bigger and browner than the others; and the smile with
which she watched them was as clear as theirs. "Ah, si seulement je
pouvais choisir leurs amants!" she sighed as she turned away.

"--Nice to-morrow," she repeated, as she and Undine walked on to their
rooms with linked arms. "We may as well make hay while the Trezac
shines. She bores Mamma frightfully, but Mamma won't admit it because
they belong to the same oeuvres. Shall it be the eleven train, dear?
We can lunch at the Royal and look in the shops--we may meet somebody
amusing. Anyhow, it's better than staying here!"

Undine was sure the trip to Nice would be delightful. Their previous
expeditions had shown her the Princess's faculty for organizing such
adventures. At Monte-Carlo, a few days before, they had run across two
or three amusing but unassorted people, and the Princess, having fused
them in a jolly lunch, had followed it up by a bout at baccarat, and,
finally hunting down an eminent composer who had just arrived to
rehearse a new production, had insisted on his asking the party to tea,
and treating them to fragments of his opera.

A few days earlier, Undine's hope of renewing such pleasures would have
been clouded by the dread of leaving Madame de Trezac alone with the
Duchess. But she had no longer any fear of Madame de Trezac. She had
discovered that her old rival of Potash Springs was in actual dread
of her disfavour, and nervously anxious to conciliate her, and the
discovery gave her such a sense of the heights she had scaled, and the
security of her footing, that all her troubled past began to seem like
the result of some providential "design," and vague impulses of piety
stirred in her as she and the Princess whirled toward Nice through the
blue and gold glitter of the morning.

They wandered about the lively streets, they gazed into the begu