ss around her, gradually assuming the shape of
female attire. Bettina had been despatched to Rennes on the day previous
to procure this material for Bertha's ball-costume, and had not returned
until late in the evening; yet the dress was cut out and fitted before
Madeleine closed her eyes that night. The first auroral ray of light
that stole into her chamber the next day fell upon the lithe figure of
the young girl folding tucks that were to be made in the skirt,
measuring distances, placing pins here and there for guides; and, as the
dawn broke, she sat down unwearily, and sent her needle in and out of
the transparent fabric with a rapidity of motion marvellous to behold.

After a time, the rickety door of the _chalet_ was unceremoniously
pushed open, and old Baptiste entered. He deposited a basket filled with
ivy leaves upon the table, and said that Mademoiselle Bertha desired him
to gather and deliver them to Mademoiselle Madeleine.

"Has she not taken her usual walk this morning, then?" asked Madeleine,
in surprise.

"No, mademoiselle; Mademoiselle Bertha only came to me as I was weeding
the flower-beds, and immediately went back to the chateau. Have I
brought mademoiselle enough ivy?"

"Quite sufficient, thank you; but I did not mean to consume your time,
my good Baptiste. I thought Mademoiselle Bertha would take pleasure in
selecting the ivy herself."

"Mademoiselle Madeleine knows how glad I always am to serve her,"
answered Baptiste.

For another hour Madeleine sat alone, singing, in a soft murmur, as she
sewed, while

"Her soul was singing at a work apart
Behind the walls of sense."

The sound of a manly step upon the pathway silenced her plaintive
melody. The next moment the vines, that formed a verdant curtain about
the otherwise unprotected casement, were gently drawn back, and a face
appeared at the window.

"I thought I should find you here on this bright morning, Mademoiselle
Madeleine. May I en--en--enter?" asked Gaston de Bois, speaking with so
much ease that his only stammer came upon the last word.

"If you please."

"A noble slave of the needle," he continued, still looking in at the
window. "The daughter of a duke, with the talents of a dressmaker!
_Where_ will ge--ge--genius next take up her abode?"

"Genius--since you are pleased to apply that sublime appellation to my
poor capacities for wielding the most familiar and harmless weapon of my
sex--is no respecter of perso