"The character is lost!
Her head adorned with lappets, pinned aloft,
And ribands streaming gay, superbly raised,
Indebted to some smart wig-weaver's hand
For more than half the tresses it sustains."--COWPER.
Upon her return to Paris, Victoire felt melancholy; but she exerted
herself as much as possible in her usual occupation; finding that
employment and the consciousness of doing her duty were the best remedies
for sorrow.
One day as she was busy settling Madame Feuillot's accounts a servant
came into the shop and inquired for Mademoiselle Victoire: he presented
her a note, which she found rather difficult to decipher. It was signed
by her cousin Manon, who desired to see Victoire at her hotel. "_Her
hotel_!" repeated Victoire with astonishment. The servant assured her
that one of the finest hotels in Paris belonged to his lady, and that he
was commissioned to show her the way to it. Victoire found her cousin in
a magnificent house, which had formerly belonged to the Prince de Salms.
Manon, dressed in the disgusting, indecent extreme of the mode, was
seated under a richly-fringed canopy. She burst into a loud laugh as
Victoire entered.
"You look just as much astonished as I expected," cried she. "Great
changes have happened since I saw you last--I always told you, Victoire,
I knew the world better than you did. What has come of all your
schooling, and your mighty goodness, and your gratitude truly? Your
patroness is banished and a beggar, and you a drudge in the shop of a
_brodeuse_, who makes you work your fingers to the bone, no doubt. Now
you shall see the difference. Let me show you my house; you know it was
formerly the hotel of the Prince de Salms, he that was guillotined the
other day; but you know nothing, for you have been out of Paris this
month, I understand. Then I must tell you that my friend Villeneuf has
acquired an immense fortune! by assignats made in the course of a
fortnight. I say an immense fortune! and has bought this fine house. Now
do you begin to understand?"
"I do not clearly know whom you mean by 'your friend Villeneuf,'" said
Victoire.
"The hairdresser who lived in our street," said Manon; "he became a great
patriot, you know, and orator; and, what with his eloquence and his luck
in dealing in assignats, he has made his fortune and mine."
"And yours! then he is your husband?"
"That does not follow--that is not necessary--but do not look so
shocked--everybody goes on the sane way now; besides, I had no other
resource--I must have starved--I could not earn my bread as you do.
Besides, I was too delicate for hard work of any sort--and besides--but
come, let me show you my house--you have no idea how fine it is."
With anxious ostentation Manon displayed all her riches to excite
Victoire's envy.
"Confess, Victoire," said she at last, "that you think me the happiest
person you have ever known.--You do not answer; whom did you ever know
that was happier?"
"Sister Frances, who died last week, appeared to be much happier," said
Victoire.
"The poor nun!" said Manon, disdainfully. "Well, and whom do you think
the next happiest?"
"Madame de Fleury."
"An exile and a beggar!--Oh, you are jesting now, Victoire--or--envious.
With that sanctified face, citoyenne--perhaps I should say
Mademoiselle--Victoire you would be delighted to change places with me
this instant. Come, you shall stay with me a week to try how you like
it."
"Excuse me," said Victoire, firmly; "I cannot stay with you, Manon; you
have chosen one way of life and I another--quite another. I do not
repent my choice--may you never repent yours!--Farewell!"
"Bless me! what airs! and with what dignity she looks! Repent of my
choice!--a likely thing, truly. Am not I at the top of the wheel?"
"And may not the wheel turn?" said Victoire.
"Perhaps it may," said Manon; "but till it does I will enjoy myself.
Since you are of a different humour, return to Madame Feuillot, and
figure upon cambric and muslin, and make out bills, and nurse old nuns
all the days of your life. You will never persuade me, however, that you
would not change places with me if you could. Stay till you are tried,
Mademoiselle Victoire. Who was ever in love with you or your
virtues?--Stay till you are tried."