and the surrounding country are pretty rough. It
is not fit for a lady to drive by herself. Always take your own man, or
one of mine, with you if you go out. I hope you won't be quite
intolerably bored. Ask for whatever you want.--You let me dine with
you? Thanks."

CHAPTER III

HELEN DE VALLORBES APPREHENDS VEXATIOUS COMPLICATIONS

Four gowns lay outspread upon the indigo-purple, embroidered coverlet
of the bed. The afterglow of an orange and crimson sunset touched the
folds of them, ranged upward to the vaultings of the frescoed ceiling,
and stained the lofty walls as with the glare of a furnace. Sea-greens,
sea-blues, died in the heat of it, abashed and vanquished. But so did
not Madame de Vallorbes' white lawn and lace _peignoir_, or her
abundant hair, which Zelie Forestier--trim of figure, and sour of
countenance--was in the act of dressing. These caught the fiery light
and held it, so that from head to foot Helen appeared as an image of
living gold. Sitting before the toilet-table, her reflection in the
great, oval mirror pleased her.

"Which shall I wear?"

"That depends upon the length of time madame proposes to stay here. The
black dress might be worn on several occasions with impunity. The
peacock brocade, the _eau de Nil_, the crocus yellow, but once--twice
at the uttermost. They are ravishing costumes, but wanting in repose.
They are unsuited for frequent repetition."

Zelie's lean fingers twisted, puffed, pinned, the shining hair very
skilfully.

"I will put on the black dress."

"Relieved by madame's _parure_ of pink topaz?"

"Yes, I will wear the pink topazes."

"Then it will be necessary to modify the style of madame's _coiffure_."

"There is plenty of time."

Helen took a hand-glass from the table and leaned forward in the low,
round-backed chair--faithful copy of a fine classic model. She wanted
to see the full glory of the afterglow upon her profile, upon her neck,
and bosom. Thus might Cassiopeia, glass in hand, in her golden chair
sit in high heaven!--Helen smiled at the pretty conceit. But the glory
was already departing. Sea-blues, sea-greens, sad by contrast, began to
reassert their presence on walls and carpet and hangings.

"The black dress? madame decides to remain then?"

As she spoke the lady's-maid laid out the jewels,--chains, bracelets,
brooches,--each stone set in a rim of tiny rose-knots of delicate
workmanship. As she fingered them little, yellow-pink flames