had noticed that they were all more or less cousins) or a more personal
feeling, her observer was unable to decide; just as the tone of
the young man's reply might have expressed the open avowal of
good-fellowship or the disguise of a different sentiment. All was
blurred and puzzling to the girl in this world of half-lights,
half-tones, eliminations and abbreviations; and she felt a violent
longing to brush away the cobwebs and assert herself as the dominant
figure of the scene.

Yet in the drawing-room, with the ladies, where Mrs. Fairford came and
sat by her, the spirit of caution once more prevailed. She wanted to be
noticed but she dreaded to be patronized, and here again her hostess's
gradations of tone were confusing. Mrs. Fairford made no tactless
allusions to her being a newcomer in New York--there was nothing as
bitter to the girl as that--but her questions as to what pictures had
interested Undine at the various exhibitions of the moment, and which of
the new books she had read, were almost as open to suspicion, since they
had to be answered in the negative. Undine did not even know that there
were any pictures to be seen, much less that "people" went to see them;
and she had read no new book but "When The Kissing Had to Stop," of
which Mrs. Fairford seemed not to have heard. On the theatre they were
equally at odds, for while Undine had seen "Oolaloo" fourteen times, and
was "wild" about Ned Norris in "The Soda-Water Fountain," she had not
heard of the famous Berlin comedians who were performing Shakespeare at
the German Theatre, and knew only by name the clever American actress
who was trying to give "repertory" plays with a good stock company. The
conversation was revived for a moment by her recalling that she had seen
Sarah Bernhard in a play she called "Leg-long," and another which she
pronounced "Fade"; but even this did not carry them far, as she had
forgotten what both plays were about and had found the actress a good