"Good-by," he said in a tone that he endeavored to make careless—but in vain.
Though she was much agitated herself she failed not to remark his emotion, and on the threshold of the atelier, she blew a kiss back to him from the tips of her gloved fingers, without speaking or smiling. Then she went back to Fraulein Schult, who was still sitting in the place where she had left her, and said: "Let us go."
The next time Madame de Nailles saw her stepdaughter she was dazzled by a radiant look in her young face.
"What has happened to you?" she asked, "you look triumphant."
"Yes—I have good reason to triumph," said Jacqueline. "I think that I have won a victory."
"How so? Over yourself?"
"No, indeed—victories over one's self give us the comfort of a good conscience, but they do not make us gay—as I am."
"Then tell me—"
"No-no! I can not tell you yet. I must be silent two days more," said
Jacqueline, throwing herself into her mother's arms.
Madame de Nailles asked no more questions, but she looked at her stepdaughter with an air of great surprise. For some weeks past she had had no pleasure in looking at Jacqueline. She began to be aware that near her, at her side, an exquisite butterfly was about for the first time to spread its wings—wings of a radiant loveliness, which, when they fluttered in the air, would turn all eyes away from other butterflies, which had lost some of their freshness during the summer.