"You are very welcome," said Ida. "I will do my best to amuse you."
As she looked at Vivian, she said to herself:
"How foolish I have been to imagine that this brilliant, beautiful girl should care for a man who belonged to another girl."
Vivian had a very fascinating way when among women, and now she exerted herself to please Eugene Mallard's young wife as she had never exerted herself to please any one before.
"What a very cozy boudoir you have, Ida!" she said. "It is like a casket for some precious jewel. How considerate your husband was to have it furnished to suit your rich dark beauty. I used to think that nothing was pretty except white and gold or blue and white."
"That is only natural," returned Ida. "You are a pronounced blonde, you know."
"Then you do not agree with me that there is a possibility of blondes liking rich dark surroundings?"
"No; I should not fancy so," returned Ida, "except that blondes usually fall in love with dark men."
Vivian flushed a vivid scarlet, which Ida did not see, for at that moment Vivian's face was turned from her.