"
After that, the old lady made her disappearance under the waves of
that sea into the depths of which it is very improbable that a single
friend ever attempted to pursue her. And there she remained until the
news came that she was restored to fortune.
A week passed, two weeks; no sight or sound of her. It was during this
period that her old friends were so occupied resuscitating their old
friendships for her--when all her antique sayings and doings became
current ball-room and dinner-table gossip--that she arose from her
obscurity like Cinderella from her ashes, to be decked with every gift
that fairy minds could suggest. Those who had known her intimately
made no effort to conceal their importance. Those who did not know her
personally put forward claims of inherited friendship, and those who
did not know her traditionally or otherwise--the _nouveaux riches_
and _parvenus_, who alone feel the moneyed value of such social
connections--began making their resolutions to capture her as soon as
she came in sight of society.
The old residence was to be re-bought, and refurnished from France;
the _avant scene_ at the opera had been engaged; the old cook was to
be hired back from the club at a fabulous price; the old balls and the
old dinners were to gladden the city--so said they who seemed to know.
Nothing was to be spared, nothing stinted--at her age, with no child
or relative, and life running short for pleasure.
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