It was evidently no use making even an attempt at flattering this strange girl; surely she must be dense not to understand compliments that most other women compel from the lips of men as their right?
He was confused--his Paris breeding was no use to him--in fact he had been at a loss all day, and his conversation had, even to himself, seemed particularly shallow and frothy.

This Mademoiselle Gueldmar, as he called her, was by no means stupid--she was not a mere moving statue of lovely flesh and perfect color whose outward beauty was her only recommendation,--she was, on the contrary, of a most superior intelligence,--she had read much and thought more,--and the dignified elegance of her manner, and bearing would have done honor to a queen.
After all, thought Duprez musingly, the social creeds of Paris _might_ be wrong--it was just possible! There might be women who were womanly,--there might be beautiful girls who were neither vain nor frivolous,--there might even be creatures of the feminine sex, besides whom a trained Parisian coquette would seem nothing more than a painted fiend of the neuter gender.

These were new and startling considerations to the feather-light mind of the Frenchman,--and unconsciously his fancy began to busy itself with the old romantic histories of the ancient French chivalry, when faith, and love, and loyalty, kept white the lilies of France, and the stately courtesy and unflinching pride of the _ancien regime_ made its name honored throughout the world.

An odd direction indeed for Pierre Duprez's reflection to wander in--he, who never reflected on either past or future, but was content to fritter away the present as pleasantly as might be--and the only reason to which his unusually serious reverie could be attributed was the presence of Thelma.

She certainly had a strange influence on them all, though she herself was not aware of it,--and not only Errington, but each one of his companions had been deeply considering during the day, that notwithstanding the unheroic tendency of modern living, life itself might be turned to good and even noble account, if only an effort were made in the right direction.
Such was the compelling effect of Thelma's stainless mind reflected in her pure face, on the different dispositions of all the young men; and she, perfectly unconscious of it, smiled at them, and conversed gaily,--little knowing as she talked, in her own sweet and unaffected way, that the most profound resolutions were being formed, and the most noble and unselfish deeds, were being planned in the souls of her listeners,--all forsooth! because one fair, innocent woman had, in the clear, grave glances of her wondrous sea-blue eyes, suddenly made them aware of their own utter unworthiness.