he
probably thinks you know about her. To him this isn't 'society' any more
than the people in an omnibus are. Society, to everybody here, means
the sanction of their own special group and of the corresponding groups
elsewhere. The Adelschein goes about in a place like this because it's
nobody's business to stop her; but the women who tolerate her here would
drop her like a shot if she set foot on their own ground."

The thoughtful air with which Undine heard him out made him fancy this
argument had carried; and as be ended she threw him a bright look.

"Well, that's easy enough: I can drop her if she comes to New York."

Ralph sat silent for a moment--then he turned away and began to gather
up his scattered pages.

Undine, in the ensuing days, was no less often with Madame Adelschein,
and Ralph suspected a challenge in her open frequentation of the lady.
But if challenge there were, he let it lie. Whether his wife saw more or
less of Madame Adelschein seemed no longer of much consequence: she had
so amply shown him her ability to protect herself. The pang lay in the
completeness of the proof--in the perfect functioning of her instinct
of self-preservation. For the first time he was face to face with his
hovering dread: he was judging where he still adored.

Before long more pressing cares absorbed him. He had already begun to
watch the post for his father-in-law's monthly remittance, without
precisely knowing how, even with its aid, he was to bridge the gulf of
expense between St. Moritz and New York. The non-arrival of Mr. Spragg's
cheque was productive of graver tears, and these were abruptly confirmed
when, coming in one afternoon, he found Undine crying over a letter from
her mother.

Her distress made him fear that Mr. Spragg was ill, and he drew her to
him soothingly; but she broke away with an impatient movement.

"Oh, they're all well enough--but father's lost a lot of money. He's
been speculating, and he can't send us anything for at least three
months."

Ralph murmured reassuringly: "As long as there's no one ill!"--but in
reality he was following her despairing gaze down the long perspective
of their barren quarter.

"Three months! Three months!"

Undine dried her eyes, and sat with set lips and tapping foot while he
read her mother's letter.

"Your poor father! It's a hard knock for him. I'm sorry," he said as he
handed it back.

For a moment she did not seem to hear; then she said between h