t inexpressively gesticulated
with them; her elaborately undulated hair looked like polished, fluted
silver; her eyes were small, dark, and intent; she smiled as constantly
and as inexpressively as she gesticulated.

'And so you really think of going back for the winter?' she asked Althea
finally, when the responsibilities of parenthood and the impermanency of
modern musical artifices had been demonstrated. 'Why, my dear? You see
everybody here. Everybody comes here, sooner or later.'

'I don't like getting out of touch with home,' said Althea.

'I confess that I feel this home,' said Miss Robinson. 'America is so
horribly changed, so vulgarised. The people they accept socially! And
the cost of things! My dear, the last time I went to the States I had to
pay five hundred francs--one hundred dollars--for my winter hat! _Je
vous demande!_ If they will drive us out they must take the
consequences.'

Althea felt tempted to inquire what these might be. Miss Robinson
sometimes roused a slight irony in her; but she received the
expostulation with a dim smile.

'Why won't you settle here?' Miss Robinson continued, 'or in Rome--there
is quite a delightful society in Rome--or Florence, or London. Not that
I could endure the English winter.'

'I've sometimes thought of England,' said Althea.

'Well, do think of it. I'm perfectly disinterested. Rather than have you
unsettled, I would like to have you settled there. You have interesting
friends, I know.'

'Yes, very interesting,' said Althea, with some satisfaction.

'You would probably make quite a place for yourself in London, if you
went at it carefully and consideringly, and didn't allow the wrong sort
of people to _accaparer_ you. We always count, when we want to, we
American women of the good type,' said Miss Robinson, with frank
complacency; 'and I don't see why, with your gifts and charm, you
shouldn't have a salon, political or artistic.'

Althea was again tempted to wonder what it was Miss Robinson counted
for; but since she had often been told that her gifts and charm demanded
a salon, she was inclined to believe it. 'It's only,' she demurred,
'that I have so many friends, in so many places; it is hard to decide on
settling.'

'One never does make a real life for oneself until one does settle. I've
found that out for myself,' said Miss Robinson.

It did not enter into her mind that Althea might still settle, in a
different sense. She was of that vast army o