ed
that she alluded to pictures or statues, and was about reverently to
enter the studio of some mighty genius, and wonder over his achievements
in marble or on canvas. The apartment she invaded was one which
visitors were not usually invited, or expected, to enter.

The gentlemen were left together.

"I am in luck!" said Lord Linden in an unusually animated tone. "My dear
M. de Bois, I am the happiest of men! I have encountered my unknown
beauty at last! She passed me in a private carriage, which stopped here
and was dismissed. I saw her enter this house not a quarter of an hour
ago. She did not perceive me, and had disappeared before I could accost
her; but I determined to keep watch until she made her exit, and then
either to renew my acquaintance or to follow her home and learn where
she lived. She shall not give me the slip again."

"Are you sure you have not made some mistake? I do not think there is
any lady here, at this moment, except Mrs. Gilmer, whom I accompanied."

"I am perfectly certain I could not be mistaken. I shall make some
excuse for remaining here; I will select a shawl or mantle for my
sister, who is one of this celebrated Mademoiselle Melanie's customers,
and who will not be displeased at such an unprecedented attention."

Before M. de Bois could reply, the marchioness returned with Victorine.

"And you say my dress for this evening will be done in an hour? That is
delightful! I am impatient to test its effects. I am half inclined to
wait until it is finished, and take it home with me."

"It shall be completed _within_ the hour; I am occupied upon it
_myself_," answered Victorine, with a fawning manner, very different
from that by which the banker's wife had been kept in subjection.

"What an original idea!" cried Madame de Fleury, pausing before the
uncompleted dress which had attracted the admiration of Mrs. Gilmer.
"What an exquisite conception! Those blades of golden wheat and those
scarlet poppies make the most perfect trimming for these ravishing
shades of green; just the colors that become me most. That dress is a
triumph, Mademoiselle Victorine!"

"The design is Mademoiselle Melanie's, but the _cut_, the _execution_,
they are _mine_," said the forewoman, complacently.

"And for whom is the dress intended? But I need hardly ask,--I am
determined that it shall be _mine_."

"It was to be sent to New Orleans to Madame la Motte, wife of the
distinguished senator. But, I beg to assu