"I'm going out to get a breath of air," replied Cleopatra without turning her head; and she swept out of the room, performing as she went those peculiar oscillations of the upper part of her body, which are not unusually adopted by young women who are very much upon their dignity when they retire. The oscillations in question consist in curving the body sideways over small obstacles, such as chairs and tables, at the moment of passing them, as if with an exaggerated effort to combine the utmost care with the utmost rapidity of movement. Mrs. Delarayne rose and went sadly to the window. Her eyes, full of self-pity, gazed with unwonted indifference at the passers-by. How thankful she would have been to have Mr. Delarayne at her side at this critical moment in her life. There were times when she was not unappreciative of the many advantages of widowhood; but this was not precisely the moment when the bright side of her peculiar situation seemed to be conspicuous. With Leonetta home for good, and Cleo still unmarried, she felt the need of help and advice; and it was significant that, as she became more and more aware of the practical usefulness that the late Mr. Delarayne might have had at this juncture, her thoughts turned rather to Lord Henry than to Sir Joseph Bullion. She must speak to Lord Henry. He would know how to direct her. A sound in the room disturbed her meditations. Leonetta, having concluded a further examination of the Paris fashions, had tossed the paper on to the table. "Peachy darling," she began, with slow deliberation. "May I have a friend to stay with me?" Mrs. Delarayne continued to gaze into the street. She did not like being called Peachy. She had an indistinct feeling that it sounded vulgar,--why she would have been unable to explain. Nevertheless, since anything was preferable to being called "Mother" at the top of Leonetta's strident soprano in the public highway, and for some reason or other Leonetta would not make use of the name "Edith," she felt that it would perhaps be diplomatic to say nothing. "Who is she?" she enquired cautiously. Leonetta was silent for a moment. It was not the question, but the caution that dictated it, that struck the girl as strange. "Isn't it enough that she is a friend of mine?" she observed. "Quite, of course!" Mrs. Delarayne hastened to reply. "I only meant,--what is her name, who are her people?" "Vanessa Vollenberg," answered Leonetta. "It sounds foreign," was the mother's quiet comment. "As a matter of fact, it is." "It sounds a little Jewish." "She is a Jewess," Leonetta admitted. Mrs. Delarayne purred approvingly over her remarkable display of insight. "She's very beautiful and wonderfully clever," Leonetta pursued. "How old?" "A year older than I am,--eighteen and a half." "Jewesses are always pretty at that age," Mrs. Delarayne muttered, glancing at her daughter furtively for a moment.