“That’s a great loss, because French mothers are usually so much to their sons.” The Princess looked at her painted fan a moment, as she opened and closed it; after which she said, “Well, then, you’ll come some day. We’ll arrange it.” Hyacinth felt that the answer to this could be only a silent inclination of his little person; and to make it he rose from his chair. As he stood there, conscious that he had stayed long enough and yet not knowing exactly how to withdraw, the Princess, with her fan closed, resting upright on her knee, and her hands clasped on the end of it, turned up her strange, lovely eyes at him, and said— “Do you think anything will occur soon?” “Will occur?” “That there will be a crisis—that you’ll make yourselves felt?” In this beautiful woman’s face there was to Hyacinth’s bewildered perception something at once inspiring, tempting and mocking; and the effect of her expression was to make him say, rather clumsily, “I’ll try and ascertain;” as if she had asked him whether her carriage were at the door. “I don’t quite know what you are talking about; but please don’t have it for another hour or two. I want to see what becomes of the Pearl!” Madame Grandoni interposed. “Remember what I told you: I would give up everything—everything!” the Princess went on, looking up at the young man in the same way. Then she held out her hand, and this time he knew sufficiently what he was about to take it. When he bade good-night to Madame Grandoni the old lady exclaimed to him, with a comical sigh, “Well, she _is_ respectable!” and out in the lobby, when he had closed the door of the box behind him, he found himself echoing these words and repeating mechanically, “She _is_ respectable!” They were on his lips as he stood, suddenly, face to face with Captain Sholto, who laid his hand on his shoulder once more and shook him a little, in that free yet insinuating manner for which this officer appeared to be remarkable. “My dear fellow, you were born under a lucky star.” “I never supposed it,” said Hyacinth, changing colour. “Why, what in the world would you have? You have the faculty, the precious faculty, of inspiring women with an interest—but an interest!” “Yes, ask them in the box there! I behaved like a cretin,” Hyacinth declared, overwhelmed now with a sense of opportunities missed. “They won’t tell me that. And the lady upstairs?” “Well,” said Hyacinth gravely, “what about her?” The Captain considered him a moment. “She wouldn’t talk to me of anything but you. You may imagine how I liked it!” “I don’t like it, either. But I must go up.” “Oh yes, she counts the minutes. Such a charming person!” Captain Sholto added, with more propriety of tone. As Hyacinth left him he called after him, “Don’t be afraid—you’ll go far.”