"That I know nothing about. I mention Pauline Mesh's as one of the houses that you ought to go to, and where I know you are expected."
"I remember now that my mother has said something about that. But who is the woman with coins in her hair?—what has she to do with Pauline Mesh?"
"Rachel is staying with her; she came from New York a week ago, and I believe she means to spend the winter. She isn't a woman, she's a girl."
"My mother did n't speak of her," said Florimond; "but I don't think she would recommend me a girl with a serpentine figure."
"Very likely not," Miss Daintry answered, dryly. "Rachel Torrance is a far-away cousin of Donald Mesh, and consequently of mine and of yours. She 's an artist, like yourself; she paints flowers on little panels and plaques."
"Like myself?—I never painted a plaque in my life!" exclaimed Florimond, staring.
"Well, she's a model also; you can paint her if you like; she has often been painted, I believe."
Florimond had begun to caress the other tip of his mustache. "I don't care for women who have been painted before. I like to find them out. Besides, I want to rest this winter."
His aunt was disappointed; she wished to put him into relation with Rachel Torrance, and his indifference was an obstacle. The meeting was sure to take place sooner or later, but she would have him
