ew steps.

"Hush! call me Brigida."

"Hush! call me Virginie."

These two exclamations were uttered at the same moment, and then the
two women scrutinized each other in silence. The swarthy cheeks of
the Italian turned to a dull yellow, and the voice of the Frenchwoman
trembled a little when she spoke again.

"How, in the name of Heaven, have you dropped down in the world as low
as this?" she asked. "I thought you were provided for when--"

"Silence!" interrupted Brigida. "You see I was not provided for. I have
had my misfortunes; and you are the last woman alive who ought to refer
to them."

"Do you think I have not had my misfortunes, too, since we met?"
(Brigida's face brightened maliciously at those words.) "You have had
your revenge," continued Mademoiselle Virginie, coldly, turning away to
the table and taking up the scissors again.

Brigida followed her, threw one arm roughly round her neck, and kissed
her on the cheek. "Let us be friends again," she said. The Frenchwoman
laughed. "Tell me how I have had my revenge," pursued the other,
tightening her grasp. Mademoiselle Virginie signed to Brigida to stoop,
and whispered rapidly in her ear. The Italian listened eagerly, with
fierce, suspicious eyes fixed on the door. When the whispering ceased,
she loosened her hold, and, with a sigh of relief, pushed back her heavy
black hair from her temples. "Now we are friends," she said, and sat
down indolently in a chair placed by the worktable.

"Friends," repeated Mademoiselle Virginie, with another laugh. "And now
for business," she continued, getting a row of pins ready for use by
putting them between her teeth. "I am here, I believe, for the purpose
of ruining the late forewoman, who has set up in opposition to us? Good!
I _will_ ruin her. Spread out the yellow brocaded silk, my dear, and
pin that pattern on at your end, while I pin at mine. And what are your
plans, Brigida? (Mind you don't forget that Finette is dead, and that
Virginie has risen from her ashes.) You can't possibly intend to stop
here all your life? (Leave an inch outside the paper, all round.) You
must have projects? What are they?"

"Look at my figure," said Brigida, placing herself in an attitude in the
middle of the room.

"Ah," rejoined the other, "it's not what it was. There's too much of it.
You want diet, walking, and a French stay-maker," muttered Mademoiselle
Virginie through her chevaus-defrise of pins.

"Did the goddess Minerva