t was lost upon her,--and she held
her own wherever she went with her bright eyes and sharp tongue. Though
secretly in an unbounded state of astonishment at everything new she
saw, she was too wise to allow this to be noticed, and feigned the
utmost coolness and indifference, even when they went from Germany to
Paris, where the brilliancy and luxury of the shops almost took away her
breath for sheer wonderment.

In Paris, Thelma's wardrobe was completed--a certain Madame Rosine,
famous for "artistic arrangements," was called into requisition, and
viewing with a professional eye the superb figure and majestic carriage
of her new customer, rose to the occasion in all her glory, and resolved
that Miladi Bruce-Errington's dresses should be the wonder and envy of
all who beheld them.

"For," said Madame, with a grand air, "it is to do me justice. That form
so magnificent is worth draping,--it will support my work to the best
advantage. And persons without figures will hasten to me and entreat me
for costumes, and will think that if I dress them I can make them look
as well as Miladi. And they will pay!"--Madame shook her head with much
shrewdness--"_Mon Dieu!_ they will pay!--and that they still look
frightful will not be my fault."

And undoubtedly Madame surpassed her usual skill in all she did for
Thelma,--she took such pains, and was so successful in all her designs,
that "Miladi," who did not as a rule show more than a very ordinary
interest in her toilette, found it impossible not to admire the artistic
taste, harmonious coloring, and exquisite fit of the few choice gowns
supplied to her from the "Maison Rosine"--and only on one occasion had
she any discussion with the celebrated modiste. This was when Madame
herself, with much pride, brought home an evening dress of the very
palest and tenderest sea-green silk, showered with pearls and
embroidered in silver, a perfect _chef-d'oeuvre_ of the dressmaker's
art. The skirt, with its billowy train and peeping folds of delicate
lace, pleased Thelma,--but she could not understand the bodice, and she
held that very small portion of the costume in her hand with an air of
doubt and wonderment. At last she turned her grave blue eyes inquiringly
on Madame.

"It is not finished?" she asked. "Where is the upper part of it and the
sleeves?"

Madame Rosine gesticulated with her hands and smiled.

"Miladi, there is no more!" she declared. "Miladi will perceive it is
for the eve