There was a sudden gust of wind, a whirl of skirts and a ring of laughter as little Princess Rosemonde swept in, followed by young Hyacinthe Duvillard, who, on his side, retained a very frigid bearing.
"It's I, my dear master," exclaimed the Princess.

"I promised you a visit, you remember, for I am such a great admirer of your genius.

And our young friend here has been kind enough to bring me.

We have only just returned from Norway, and my very first visit is for you." She turned as she spoke, and bowed in an easy and gracious way to Pierre and Marie, Francois and Antoine, who were also there.

Then she resumed: "Oh! my dear master, you have no idea how beautifully virginal Norway is! We all ought to go and drink at that new source of the Ideal, and we should return purified, rejuvenated and capable of great renunciations!" As a matter of fact she had been well-nigh bored to death there.