The grey wig soon showed its dark side. Its possession, indeed,
enabled Madame Valiere to loiter on the more lighted stairs, or dawdle
in the hall with Madame la Proprietaire; but Madame Depine was not
only debarred from these dignified domestic attitudes, but found a new
awkwardness in bearing Madame Valiere company in their walks
abroad. Instead of keeping each other in countenance--_duoe contra
mundum_--they might now have served as an advertisement for the
_coiffeur_ and the _convenable_. Before the grey wig--after the grey
wig.
Wherefore Madame Depine was not so very sorry when, after a few weeks
of this discomforting contrast, the hour drew near of the "Princess's"
departure for the family wedding; especially as she was only losing
her for two days. She had insisted, of course, that the savings for
the second wig were not to commence till the return, so that Madame
Valiere might carry with her a present worthy of her position and her
port. They had anxious consultations over this present. Madame Depine
was for a cheap but showy article from the Bon Marche; but Madame
Valiere reminded her that the price-lists of this enterprising firm
knocked at the doors of Tonnerre. Something distinguished (in
silver) was her own idea. Madame Depine frequently wept during these
discussions, reminded of her own wedding. Oh, the roundabouts at
Robinson, and that delicious wedding-lunch up the tree! One was gay
then, my dear.
At last they purchased a tiny metal Louis Quinze timepiece for eleven
francs seventy-five centimes, congratulating themselves on the surplus
of twenty-five centimes from their three weeks' savings. Madame
Valiere packed it with her impedimenta into the carpet-bag lent her by
Madame la Proprietaire. She was going by a night train from the Gare
de Lyon, and sternly refused to let Madame Depine see her off.
"And how would you go back--an old woman, alone in these dark November
nights, with the papers all full of crimes of violence? It is not
_convenable_, either."
Madame Depine yielded to the latter consideration; but as Madame
Valiere, carrying the bulging carpet-bag, was crying "_La porte, s'il
vous plait_" to the _concierge_, she heard Madame Depine come tearing
and puffing after her like the steam-tram, and, looking back, saw
her breathlessly brandishing her gold brooch. "_Tiens!_" she panted,
fastening the "Princess's" cloak with it. "That will give thee an
air."
"But--it is too valuable. Thou must not." They had never "thou'd" each
other before, and this enhanced the tremulousness of the moment.
"I do not give it thee," Madame Depine laughed through her tears. "_Au
revoir, mon amie_."
"_Adieu, ma cherie!_ I will tell my dear ones of my Paris comrade."
And for the first time their lips met, and the brown wig brushed the
grey.