The only person who was always pleasant to him was Hildegarde. They had often come across one another, and a sincere friendship had sprung up between them. The two "outcasts" Hildegarde called himself and her to her relatives. George was never introduced, and she herself occupied a curious position in Society. She was no longer quite a young girl, and interest in her charms had vanished. People invited her out, it is true, but that was largely because they could not do anything else, but privately they always hoped she would not accept the invitation. When she did go to parties, contemptuous remarks were made behind her back. Hildegarde acted as if she were quite unconscious of them, but she understood the glances that were directed towards her, and even when she did not actually hear the words, she knew very well how the people shook their heads over her and whispered to each other. It was a great effort of self-control to go to these entertainments, and after every party she said to herself: "To-day is the very last time I will go; to-morrow I shall go home." But the terrible anxiety which always reigned in her home kept her at her aunt's. "I would rather endure these secret remarks than see the poverty and misery at home, and bear their reproaches." At intervals she confessed to herself that she stayed on George's account; not that she could say she was exactly in love with him. The question of marriage had been so much and so often talked about, that love seemed a ridiculous thing, and it all depended on whether the man had money or not. The holiest of feelings had been so unreservedly discussed in her presence that she believed that her heart was no longer accessible to love. In George she saw a reliable friend. He was always very attentive to her; as soon as he saw her by herself he came to her side, and she felt his glance continually on her. His glance seemed to say: "I do not know, of course, what anxiety is troubling you, but I know that you are feeling sad and lonely here, just as I am, and I want, therefore, to do what I can for you." This evening she was to meet him again. There was a great reception at the American ambassador's, and she was delighted at the prospect of seeing him. She had dressed herself specially well for his benefit, and had put on a new costume which her aunt had just given her. In pleasant anticipation of the entertainment she had begun to dress sooner than usual, and now a quarter of an hour before it was time to go she was standing in front of the looking-glass and regarding herself smilingly. She was pleased with her own beauty, and knew that to-day, at any rate, she would once again arouse admiration. She was standing deep in thought when a knock at the door aroused her. "Is it time yet? I am quite ready. I'll come at once." "Madam has plenty of time. The carriage is not yet at the door, but there is an express message for you."