“Why, do you mean to say you know him, Indiana?”

“Mercy, yes!  He’s round here all the time.  He crossed on the steamer with us, and Mr. Rolliver’s taken a fancy to him,” Indiana explained, in the tone of the absorbed bride to whom her husband’s preferences are the sole criterion.

Undine turned a tear-suffused gaze on her.  “Oh, Indiana, if I could only see him again I know it would be all right!  He’s awfully, awfully fond of me; but his family have influenced him against me—­”

“I know what that is!” Mrs. Rolliver interjected.

“But perhaps,” Undine continued, “it would be better if I could meet him first without his knowing beforehand—­without your telling him ...  I love him too much to reproach him!” she added nobly.

Indiana pondered:  it was clear that, though the nobility of the sentiment impressed her, she was disinclined to renounce the idea of taking a more active part in her friend’s rehabilitation.  But Undine went on:  “Of course you’ve found out by this time that he’s just a big spoiled baby.  Afterward—­when I’ve seen him—­if you’d talk to him; or it you’d only just let him be with you, and see how perfectly happy you and Mr. Rolliver are!”

Indiana seized on this at once.  “You mean that what he wants is the influence of a home like ours?  Yes, yes, I understand.  I tell you what I’ll do:  I’ll just ask him round to dine, and let you know the day, without telling him beforehand that you’re coming.”

“Oh, Indiana!” Undine held her in a close embrace, and then drew away to say:  “I’m so glad I found you.  You must go round with me everywhere.  There are lots of people here I want you to know.”

Mrs. Rolliver’s expression changed from vague sympathy to concentrated interest.  “I suppose it’s awfully gay here?  Do you go round a great deal with the American set?”

Undine hesitated for a fraction of a moment.  “There are a few of them who are rather jolly.  But I particularly want you to meet my friend the Marquis Roviano—­he’s from Rome; and a lovely Austrian woman, Baroness Adelschein.”

Her friend’s face was brushed by a shade of distrust.  “I don’t know as I care much about meeting foreigners,” she said indifferently.

Undine smiled:  it was agreeable at last to be able to give Indiana a “point” as valuable as any of hers on divorce.

“Oh, some of them are awfully attractive; and they’ll make you meet the Americans.”

Indiana caught this on the bound:  one began to see why she had got on in spite of everything.

“Of course I’d love to know your friends,” she said, kissing Undine; who answered, giving back the kiss: 

“You know there’s nothing on earth I wouldn’t do for you.”

Indiana drew back to look at her with a comic grimace under which a shade of anxiety was visible.  “Well, that’s a pretty large order.  But there’s just one thing you can do, dearest:  please to let Mr. Rolliver alone!”