little older. But he's quiet, and good as gold. I never knew such a well-behaved baby."
"I don't want him," she said regretfully, "to be too well-behaved."
"Only wait until he grows older," the nurse repeated.
"He doesn't seem to know me," Lina commented.
"He's always shy at first with strangers, Madame."
She returned to Paris tired and dispirited, only to find De Beauvais waiting for her with his watch in his hand.
"Really, Lina, have you forgotten we have a box at the Variétés to-night?"
"Oh, must we go? Can't we have supper quietly instead? I'm tired, after my journey."
De Beauvais flew into a rage.
"II ne manquait que ga! Always when you are not dancing, you are tired! And yet, when you dance, you don't know the meaning of the word! What am I to understand by that?"
But Lina had opened a letter, and was not even listening to him.
"Lina! Will you pay attention to what I am saying?"
She turned then, her face beneath the fur-trimmed bonnet so vivid with ecstasy that it looked as though it were afire.
"Pierre! Listen! A letter from Heinrich telling me of a wonderful offer for a foreign tour of The Ondine! Six months, and all the principal cities of Europe! There! What do you think about that?"
It was easy to see what he thought about it. His heavylidded eyes evaded hers, his lip protruded obstinately.
"What do I think? I'll teil you, ma belle Ondine. I think that the time has come for us to say good-by to each other. I confess that I find you an expensive luxury when I pause to take into account the fact that I never see anything of you. I'm a little tired, Lina, of sharing your