came
to stay they objected to having their children exposed to the tutor's
influence, and even implied that Paul's society might be contaminating.
But Undine, though she had so readily embraced her husband's faith,
stubbornly resisted the suggestion that she should hand over her son to
the Church. The tutor therefore remained; but the friction caused by
his presence was so irritating to Undine that she began to consider the
alternative of sending Paul to school. He was still small and tender
for the experiment; but she persuaded herself that what he needed was
"hardening," and having heard of a school where fashionable infancy was
subjected to this process, she entered into correspondence with the
master. His first letter convinced her that his establishment was just
the place for Paul; but the second contained the price-list, and after
comparing it with the tutor's keep and salary she wrote to say that she
feared her little boy was too young to be sent away from home.

Her husband, for some time past, had ceased to make any comment on her
expenditure. She knew he thought her too extravagant, and felt sure he
was minutely aware of what she spent; for Saint Desert projected on
economic details a light as different as might be from the haze that
veiled them in West End Avenue. She therefore concluded that Raymond's
silence was intentional, and ascribed it to his having shortcomings of
his own to conceal. The Princess Estradina's pleasantry had reached its
mark. Undine did not believe that her husband was seriously in love with
another woman--she could not conceive that any one could tire of her
of whom she had not first tired--but she was humiliated by his
indifference, and it was easier to ascribe it to the arts of a rival
than to any deficiency in herself. It exasperated her to think that he
might have consolations for the outward monotony of his life, and she
resolved that when they returned to Paris he should see that she was not
without similar opportunities.

March, meanwhile, was verging on April, and still he did not speak of
leaving. Undine had learned that he expected to have such decisions left
to him, and she hid her impatience lest her showing it should incline
him to delay. But one day, as she sat at tea in the gallery, he came in
in his riding-clothes and said: "I've been over to the other side of the
mountain. The February rains have weakened the dam of the Alette, and
the vineyards will be in danger if w