“But a foolish fancy,” laughed Madame de Villegry.  “However, in return for your madrigal, accept the advice of a friend.  The Nailles seem to me to be prosperous, but everybody in society appears so, and one never knows what may happen any day.  You would not do amiss if, before you go on, you were to talk with Wermant, the ‘agent de change’, who has a considerable knowledge of the business affairs of Jacqueline’s father.  He could tell you about them better than I can.”

“Wermant is at Treport, is he not?  I thought I saw him—­”

“Yes, he is here till Monday.  You have twenty-four hours.”

“Do you really think I am in such a hurry?”

“Will you take a bet that by this time to-morrow you will not know exactly the amount of her dot and the extent of her expectations?”

“You would lose.  I have something else to think of—­now and always.”

“What?” she said, carelessly.

“You have forbidden me ever to mention it.”

Silence ensued.  Then Madame de Villegry said, smiling: 

“I suppose you would like me to present you this evening to my friends the De Nailles?”

And in fact they all met that evening at the Casino, and Jacqueline, in a gown of scarlet foulard, which would have been too trying for any other girl, seemed to M. de Cymier as pretty as she had been in her bathing-costume.  Her hair was not dressed high, but it was gathered loosely together and confined by a ribbon of the same color as her gown, and she wore a little sailor hat besides.  In this costume she had been called by M. de Talbrun the “Fra Diavolo of the Seas,” and she never better supported that part, by liveliness and audacity, than she did that evening, when she made a conquest that was envied—­wildly envied—­by the three Demoiselles Wermant and the two Misses Sparks, for the handsome Gerard, after his first waltz with Madame de Villegry, asked no one to be his partner but Mademoiselle de Nailles.

The girls whom he neglected had not even Fred to fall back upon, for Fred, the night before, had received orders to join his ship.  He had taken leave of Jacqueline with a pang in his heart which he could hardly hide, but to which no keen emotion on her part seemed to respond.  However, at least, he was spared the unhappiness of seeing the star of De Cymier rising above the horizon.

“If he could only see me,” thought Jacqueline, waltzing in triumph with M. de Cymier.  “If he could only see me I should be avenged.”

But he was not Fred. She was not giving him a thought.  It was the last flash of resentment and hatred that came to her in that moment of triumph, adding to it a touch of exquisite enjoyment.

Thus she performed the obsequies of her first love!

Not long after this M. de Nailles said to his wife: 

“Do you know, my dear, that our little Jacqueline is very much admired?  Her success has been extraordinary.  It is not likely she will die an old maid.”