circle of grown people, saying good-morning, making curtseys, and kissing
the withered hand of old Madame de Monredon, as she had been taught to do
from infancy. Madame de Monredon was Giselle's grandmother. Jacqueline
had been instructed to call her "aunt;" but in her heart she called her
'La Fee Gyognon', while Madame d'Argy, pointing to her son, said: "What
do you think, darling, of such a surprise? He is home on leave. We came
here the first place-naturally."

"It was very nice of you. How do you do, Fred?" said Jacqueline,
holding out her hand to a very young man, in a jacket ornamented with
gold lace, who stood twisting his cap in his hand with some embarrassment
"It is a long time since we have seen each other. But it does not seem
to me that you have grown a great deal."

Fred blushed up to the roots of his hair.

"No one can say that of you, Jacqueline," observed Madame d'Argy.

"No--what a may-pole!--isn't she?" said the Baronne, carelessly.

"If she realizes it," whispered Madame de Monredon, who was sitting
beside Madame d'Argy on a 'causeuse' shaped like an S, "why does she
persist in dressing her like a child six years old? It is absurd!"

"Still, she can have no reason for keeping her thus in order to make
herself seem young. She is only a stepmother."

"Of course. But people might make comparisons. Beauty in the bud
sometimes blooms out unexpectedly when it is not welcome."