ruded upon her privacy.

"Pardon, mademoiselle," began the consequential forewoman. "I should not
have ventured to disturb you, but there is a matter of importance to be
settled. Madame Orlowski has come in person to order six ball-dresses;
and she is not satisfied to decide upon the varieties of style that will
most become her without consulting Mademoiselle Melanie herself. She
insisted upon my bringing you this message."

"You have done wrong," answered Madeleine, somewhat less gently than was
her wont.

"But in a case of such great importance"--began Victorine, flushing
angrily.

Madeleine interrupted her with a slight touch of sarcasm in her tone:
"It is, no doubt, inconceivable to you that my mind should be occupied
with matters of even _greater_ importance than six ball dresses for one
lady. Still, I must be tyrannical enough to request you to believe so,
and not to allow me to be molested again. At all events," she added, her
good-humor returning, "I venture to hope that I have not often subjected
you to tyranny or caprice."

"No, no, certainly not," responded Victorine, a little mollified. "And
since it was _so obvious_ that mademoiselle had _something upon her
mind_, I have exerted myself as much as possible to prevent her being
annoyed."

"Thank you; have the goodness to send Robert here."

This order was so pointedly a dismissal that the forewoman had no excuse
to linger. She left the room thoroughly convinced that Mademoiselle
Melanie was in love,--in love at last! The house would soon be gayer;
Mademoiselle Melanie would leave the business more in her forewoman's
hands; the pleasant change so long desired was coming about; but she
could not rest until she discovered the object of Mademoiselle Melanie's
attachment. One thing was certain: there was romance and mystery about
the whole affair, and this lent zest to the Frenchwoman's enjoyment.

Victorine not only summoned Robert, but stole after him on tiptoe to the
door of Madeleine's boudoir to hear what order was given. She distinctly
caught these words:--

"You will admit no one but the Count de Gramont and M. Maurice de
Gramont."

"The Count de Gramont and his son!" said Victorine to herself, as she
hurried back to her satins and velvets; "Oh, this is decidedly getting
interesting,--Mademoiselle Melanie aims high,--and, in spite of her
prudence and propriety, she--well, well, we shall see! It's always still
water that runs deepest. The Count