s Claud Walsingham
Popple; and above his shoulder shone the batrachian countenance of Peter
Van Degen. A brief murmur from Mr. Popple made his companion known to
the two ladies, and Mr. Van Degen promptly seated himself behind Undine,
relegating the painter to Mrs. Lipscomb's elbow.

"Queer go--I happened to see your friend there waving to old Popp across
the house. So I bolted over and collared him: told him he'd got to
introduce me before he was a minute older. I tried to find out who
you were the other day at the Motor Show--no, where was it? Oh, those
pictures at Goldmark's. What d'you think of 'em, by the way? You ought
to be painted yourself--no, I mean it, you know--you ought to get old
Popp to do you. He'd do your hair ripplingly. You must let me come and
talk to you about it... About the picture or your hair? Well, your hair
if you don't mind. Where'd you say you were staying? Oh, you LIVE here,
do you? I say, that's first rate!"

Undine sat well forward, curving toward him a little, as she had seen
the other women do, but holding back sufficiently to let it be visible
to the house that she was conversing with no less a person than Mr.
Peter Van Degen. Mr. Popple's talk was certainly more brilliant and
purposeful, and she saw him cast longing glances at her from behind Mrs.
Lipscomb's shoulder; but she remembered how lightly he had been treated
at the Fairford dinner, and she wanted--oh, how she wanted!--to have
Ralph Marvell see her talking to Van Degen.

She poured out her heart to him, improvising an opinion on the pictures
and an opinion on the music, falling in gaily with his suggestion of
a jolly little dinner some night soon, at the Cafe Martin, and
strengthening her position, as she thought, by an easy allusion to her
acquaintance with Mrs. Van Degen. But at the word her companion's eye
clouded, and a shade of constraint dimmed his enterprising smile.

"My wife--? Oh, SHE doesn't go to restaurants--she moves on too high a
plane. But we'll get old Popp, and Mrs.--, Mrs.--, what'd you say your
fat friend's name was? Just a select little crowd of four--and some kind
of a cheerful show afterward... Jove! There's the curtain, and I must
skip."

As the door closed on him Undine's cheeks burned with resentment. If
Mrs. Van Degen didn't go to restaurants, why had he supposed that SHE
would? and to have to drag Mabel in her wake! The leaden sense of
failure overcame her again. Here was the evening nearly ov