ewoman reluctantly left the room, looking puzzled, curious, and
indignant.

"What? Is some alteration needful?" asked Madame de Fleury. "Have you
some fresh inspiration? Has a new idea that will improve the dress
suddenly struck you?"

Without replying to these questions, Madeleine looked earnestly at the
marchioness, who was now resuming her bonnet, and asked,--

"You are, then, satisfied with my work, madame?"

"Satisfied? that is a cold word. I am transported!"

"And if," continued Madeleine, "for that dress I should require a
price"--

"Oh, whatever you please," replied the marchioness, lightly. "Take me
prisoner, gag me, plunder me, what you will, I shall not complain: the
dress is worth it; and we have never had any discussion in regard to
prices."

"But the price in question is not one that can be paid with money; the
price I place upon this dress is the granting of a favor,--a favor most
precious to me."

"A favor? you have only to speak. Do you want an office for a friend? A
recommendation for some ambitious compatriot to the emperor? A pardon
for some exiled transgressor? Anything possible to the wife of the
French ambassador is at your service; you have but to speak."

"My petition is somewhat easier to grant; for I only ask a few words
from you in writing."

As she said this, Madeleine opened a desk, and placed upon it a sheet of
note-paper, a gold pen, and an inkstand. Then she paused, and said,
hesitatingly,--

"Yet, though I ask but these few written words, in full compensation for
that dress, the materials of which as well as the work being mine, I
fear to make my petition known, for I feel that it will cost you much to
comply with my wishes."

"Nonsense! speak plainly," said Madame de Fleury, smoothing her ribbons
with caressing touches.

"I would solicit an invitation to your ball for one of your
acquaintances who, as yet, has received none, and who chances to be one
of my customers."

"Is that all? We are enacting much ado about nothing," said the
marchioness, seating herself smilingly at the desk. "You shall have the
invitation, modest and mysterious petitioner. What name shall I write?"

"Mrs."--Madeleine faltered.

"Go on," cried the marchioness, who had commenced her note with the
usual formula.

"Mrs. Gilmer!" responded Madeleine.

Madame de Fleury threw down the pen and started up.

"Mrs. Gilmer! Invite Mrs. Gilmer to a ball from which I have purposely
excluded her? In