gave herself
up ingenuously to all those gracefully charming things in which so many
Parisian women spend their lives, and which give such significance to
all that we see about them, and in them, and on them. Few women go to
milliners and dressmakers for their own pleasure and interest. When old
they never think of adornment. The next time you meet in the street a
young woman stopping for a moment to look into a shop-window, examine
her face carefully. "Will he think I look better in that?" are the words
written on that fair brow, in the eyes sparkling with hope, in the smile
that flickers on the lips.

Lady Dudley's ball took place on a Saturday night. On the following
Monday the countess went to the Opera, feeling certain of seeing Raoul,
who was, in fact, watching for her on one of the stairways leading down
to the stalls. With what delight did she observe the unwonted care he
had bestowed upon his clothes. This despiser of the laws of elegance had
brushed and perfumed his hair; his waistcoat followed the fashion, his
cravat was well tied, the bosom of his shirt was irreproachably smooth.
Raoul was standing with his arms crossed as if posed for his portrait,
magnificently indifferent to the rest of the audience and full of
repressed impatience. Though lowered, his eyes were turned to the red
velvet cushion on which lay Marie's arm. Felix, seated in the opposite
corner of the box, had his back to Nathan.

So, in a moment, as it were, Marie had compelled this remarkable man to
abjure his cynicism in the line of clothes. All women, high or low, are
filled with delight on seeing a first proof of their power in one of
these sudden metamorphoses. Such changes are an admission of serfdom.

"Those women were right; there is a great pleasure in being understood,"
she said to herself, thinking of her treacherous friends.

When the two lovers had gazed around the theatre with that glance that
takes in everything, they exchanged a look of intelligence. It was for
each as if some celestial dew had refreshed their hearts, burned-up with
expectation.

"I have been here for an hour in purgatory, but now the heavens are
opening," said Raoul's eyes.

"I knew you were waiting, but how could I help it?" replied those of the
countess.

Thieves, spies, lovers, diplomats, and slaves of any kind alone know the
resources and comforts of a glance. They alone know what it contains
of meaning, sweetness, thought, anger, villainy, displa