FEMININE BELLIGERENTS.
Madeleine's residence was one of the most superb mansions in Washington:
a spacious house, built of white stone, and located within a few
minutes' walk of the capitol. She was in the habit of seeking the
beautiful capitol-grounds every fine morning, before the busy city was
astir, accompanied by Ruth Thornton. The matinal hour devoted to this
refreshing walk was to both maidens the calmest and happiest of the
twenty-four. In that peaceful hour they gained strength to encounter the
petty vexations and _désagrément_ incident to the at once humble and
important vocation they had adopted.
Buried deep in Madeleine's heart there was ever a sadness that could not
be shaken off, but she turned the sunny side of her existence toward
others, and kept the shadow of her great sorrow for herself alone;
therefore her mien was ever tranquil, even cheerful. Possibly, she
suffered less than many whose griefs were not so heavy, because her
meek, uncomplaining spirit tempered the bleak wind that blew over her
bowed head, and rounded the sharp stones that would have cut her feet on
their pilgrimage, had they stepped less softly. Thus she carried within
herself the magic that drew from waspish circumstance its sharpest
sting.
The morning after Madeleine's rencontre with her relatives, a group of
young women were sitting busily employed around a large table in
Mademoiselle Melanie's workroom.
Mademoiselle Victorine, the forewoman, and Mademoiselle Clemence, her
chief assistant, were the only foreigners. They had been in Vignon's
employment, and had accompanied Madeleine to America. The other
workwomen Madeleine had selected herself. Many of them were young girls,
well born, and bred in luxury, who had been compelled by sudden reverses
to earn a livelihood. Madeleine often wondered how so many of this class
had been thrown in her way. In reality, the class is a frightfully
numerous one, and she had an intuitive faculty of discovering those of
whom it was composed. Not only did her instinctive sympathy attract her
toward them, but Mr. Hilson, who was an active philanthropist, had been
largely instrumental in pointing out young women who aspired to become
self-helpers. Madeleine took an affectionate interest in teaching them
a trade which almost rose to the dignity of a profession in her hands.
She became their friend, adviser, and comforter, and thus experienced
the delicious consolation of creating happiness for others after her own
happiness had received its death-blow.
The room in which the busy needle-women were sitting, was the farthest
of a suite of apartments opening into each other, on the second story.
These apartments were somewhat lavishly furnished, but in the strictest
good taste, and the eye was charmed by a profusion of choice plants
blossoming in ornamental flower-vases, placed upon brackets on the wall;
or of orchids floating in pendant luxuriance from baskets attached to
the ceiling. Then, Madeleine had not forgotten the picturesque use so
often made of the ivy in her native land, and had trained the obedient
parasite to embower windows, or climb around frames of mirrors, until
the gilt background gave but a golden glimmer through the dark-green
network of leaves.
Each room was also supplied either with portfolios containing rare
engravings, with musical instruments, or a library.
Rich dresses were displayed upon skeleton frames in one apartment;
mantles and out-of-door wrappings were exhibited in another; bonnets and
head-dresses were exposed to admiring view in a third.
Near the window, not far from the table which was surrounded by the
sewing-women, stood a smaller table where Ruth was engaged, coloring
designs for costumes.
The gossip of the Washington _beau monde_, very naturally furnished a
theme for the lively tongues of the needle-women. They picked up all the
interesting items of fashionable news that dropped from the lips of the
many lady loungers who amused themselves by spending their mornings at
Mademoiselle Melanie's exhibition-rooms, giving orders for dresses,
bonnets, etc., examining new styles of apparel, discussing the most
becoming modes, or idly chattering with acquaintances who visited
Mademoiselle Melanie upon the same important mission as themselves.
Mademoiselle Victorine generally led the conversation at the
working-table, or, rather, she usually monopolized it. It was a source
of great exultation to her if she happened to have a piece of news to
communicate; and this now chanced to be the case.
"Something very important is to take place in this house, probably this
very day!" she began, with a consequential air. "If Mademoiselle
Melanie has a fault, it is that she makes no confidants; and I think I
am fully entitled to her confidence. I should like to know what she
could have done without _me_?"
"What, indeed?" exclaimed several voices, for every one was anxious to
propitiate the forewoman by bestowing upon her the flattery which was
essential to keep her in an equable state of mind.
"When we think of the marvels," continued Mademoiselle Victorine, "that
issue from these walls; the splendid figures that go forth into the
world out of our creative hands,--figures, which, could they be seen
when they rise in the morning, would not be recognizable,--we have cause
for self-congratulation. And Mademoiselle Melanie gets all the credit
for these metamorphoses; though, we all know, she does _nothing_
herself; that is, she merely forms a plan, makes a sketch, selects
certain colors, and that is _all_! The execution, the real work, is
mine--_mine!_ I appeal to you, young ladies, to say if it is not
_mine_?"
"Yes, certainly," said Abby, one of the younger girls; "but without
Mademoiselle Melanie's sketch, without her ideas, her taste, what
would"--
"There--there; you talk too fast, Mademoiselle Abby; you are always
chattering. I say that without _me_ Mademoiselle Melanie would never
have attained her present elevated position; without _me_ this
establishment would never have been what it now is,--a very California
of dressmaking. And, in a little more than four years, what a fortune
Mademoiselle Melanie has accumulated! That brings me back to the point
from which I started. Does any one know what is to happen shortly?" she
inquired, with an air of elation at being the only repository of a
valuable secret.
"No--no--what is it?" asked numerous voices.
"Well, Mademoiselle Ruth, do you say nothing?" inquired the triumphant
forewoman. "Are you not anxious to know?"
Ruth, without lifting her head from the sketch she was coloring,
answered, "Yes, certainly, unless it should be something with which
Mademoiselle Melanie does not desire us to be acquainted."
"Oh, hear the little saint!" returned Victorine. "She does not care for
secrets,--no, of course not! She is only jealous that any one should
know more than herself. She would not express surprise, not she, if I
told her Mademoiselle Melanie is about to pay down ten thousand
dollars--the last payment--upon the purchase of this house, which makes
it hers."
Mademoiselle Victorine concluded with a violent shake of the brocade she
was trimming.
"But did you learn this from good authority?" asked Esther, a slender,
pale-faced girl.
"The very best. I heard Mrs. Hilson say so to some ladies whom she
brought to introduce here; and you know Mr. Hilson transacts all
business matters for Mademoiselle Melanie. Mrs. Hilson told her friends
that Mademoiselle Melanie's establishment was a perfect mint and fairly
coined money. When I heard this assertion I said to myself, 'How little
people understand that without _me_ Mademoiselle Melanie would never
have founded an establishment that was compared to a mint--never!' Yet
_she_ gets all the credit."
"But you see"--began Esther.
Victorine interrupted her.
"What a chatterbox you are, Mademoiselle Esther! You will never get on
with that work if you talk so much. Those festoons want spirit and
grace; you must recommence them, or the dress will be a failure, I warn
you! For whom is it? I have forgotten."
"It is Mrs. Gilmer's, and she expects to wear it at the grand ball to be
given by the Marchioness de Fleury."
"She will be mistaken!" said Victorine. "I know that she will not be
invited. The marchioness hates her; Mrs. Gilmer is the only rival whom
Madame de Fleury takes the trouble to detest; and it makes me indignant
to see a lady of her superlative fascinations annoyed by this little
upstart American. One must admit that Mrs. Gilmer is very pretty; her
figure scarcely needs help, and she is so vivacious, and has so much
_aplomb_, so much dash, that the notice she attracts renders her
alarmingly ambitious. Still, for her to dare to contrast herself with
the French ambassadress is intolerable presumption, and I rejoice that
she will get no invitation to the ball."
"How do you know that she will not be invited?" asked Esther.
"How do I know all that I _do_ know? It is odd to notice with what
perfect lack of reserve the ladies who visit us talk. They chatter away
just as if they thought we were human working-machines, without ears, or
brains, or memories. This singular hallucination makes it not difficult
to become acquainted with certain secrets of fashionable life which one
_clique_ would not make known to another _clique_ for the world."
"But this tittle-tattle"--Esther began.
"Chût, chût," cried the forewoman. "How you chatter, Mademoiselle
Esther; one cannot hear one's self speak for you! Somebody has just
entered the exhibition _salon_; who is it? Mrs. Gilmer, as I'm alive! M.
de Bois is with her; she has come to try on her dress, I suppose. She
may spare herself the pains, for she will not wear it at Madame de
Fleury's ball."
Ruth, whose duty it was to receive visitors, and to summon Victorine, if
they had orders to give, rose and entered the adjoining apartment.
Mrs. Gilmer was one of those light-headed and light-hearted women, who
float upon the topmost and frothiest wave of society, herself a
glittering bubble. To win admiration was the chief object of her life.
The breath of flattery wafted her upward toward her heaven,--that
rapturous state which was heaven to her. To be the _belle_ of every
reunion where she appeared was a triumph she could not forego; and there
were no arts to which she would not stoop to obtain this victory. Madame
de Fleury was a woman of the same stamp, but with all the polish, grace,
and refined coquetry which the social atmosphere of Paris imparts; and
though she had far less personal beauty than Mrs. Gilmer,--less mind,
less wit,--her capacity for using all the charms she possessed gave her
vast advantage over the fair-featured young American.
When Ruth entered the _salon_, Mrs. Gilmer was too much interested in
her conversation with M. de Bois to notice her, and continued talking
with as much freedom as though she was not present.
"I have set my heart upon it!" said she, "and I tell you I _must_
receive an invitation to this ball. Madame de Fleury positively _shall
not_ exclude me. I have already set in motion a number of influential
pulleys, and I am not apt to fail when I make an earnest attempt."
"I am quite aware of that," answered M. de Bois, gallantly.
"Oh, what a love of a dress! What an exquisite design!" exclaimed Mrs.
Gilmer, stopping delighted before a robe which had been commenced, but
was thrown over one of the manikins, with a sketch of the completed
costume attached to the skirt. "The blending of those pale shades of
green and that embroidery of golden wheat, with a scarlet poppy here and
there,--the effect is superb! Then the style, as this sketch shows, is
perfectly novel. I am enchanted! Miss Ruth, I must have that dress! _At
any price_, I must have it!"
"It is to go to New Orleans, madame," replied Ruth. "It was ordered by
Mrs. Senator la Motte, and is to be worn at some grand wedding."
"No matter--I tell you _I must have it!_ Where is Mademoiselle
Victorine?"
Ruth summoned the forewoman. Victorine advanced very deliberately, and
her bearing had a touch of patronage and condescension.
Mrs. Gilmer pleaded hard for the possession of the dress; but
Mademoiselle Victorine appeared to take the greatest satisfaction in
making her understand that its becoming hers was an impossibility. The
more earnestly Mrs. Gilmer prayed, the more inflexible became the
forewoman. As for _repeating_ a design which had been invented for one
particular person, _that_, she asserted, was against all rules of art.
The original design might be feebly, imperfectly copied by other
mantua-makers, but its duplicate could not be sent forth from an
establishment of the standing of Mademoiselle Melanie's.
Mrs. Gilmer, whose white brow was knitted with something very like a
frown, remarked that she would talk to Mademoiselle Melanie on the
subject, by and by.
"Mademoiselle Melanie does not usually reverse _my_ decisions," replied
the piqued forewoman, with an extravagant show of dignity.
"We shall see!" retorted Mrs. Gilmer. "Now let me choose a head-dress
for the opera to-night; something original. What can you invent for me?"
"Really," answered Victorine, who was not a little irate at the
suggestion that there _could_ be any appeal from her verdict; "I do not
feel inspired at this moment; I am quite dull; nothing occurs to me out
of the usual line."
"Oh! you _must_ think!" pleaded the volatile lady. "Invent me something
never before seen; something with flowers will do; but let me have
_impossible_ flowers,--flowers which have no existence, and which I
shall not behold upon every one's else head. Price is no object; my
husband never refuses me anything! Especially," she added in a lower
tone, to M. de Bois, "when he is _jealous_; and I find it very useful,
absolutely _necessary_, to begin the season by exciting a series of
Othello pangs through which he becomes manageable. I feed the jealous
flame all winter, and add fresh fuel in the spring, when I wish to
indulge in various extravagances."
"A very diplomatic arrangement," remarked M. de Bois.
"What a bonnet! What a beauty of a bonnet! what deliciously adjusted
lace! How was it ever made to fall in such folds, over that bunch of
moss roses; peeping out of those quivering leaves, touched with
dew-drops?"
"That bonnet belongs to _Madame de Fleury_," said Victorine, with a
malicious emphasis.
"Ah, indeed!" returned Mrs. Gilmer, changing color. "I wonder what would
become of Madame de Fleury were it not for her toilets! If she were
despoiled of her gay plumage, a very insipid, commonplace looking
personage would remain. I must say, it is rather singular," she
continued, growing warm in spite of herself, "but if I ever happen to
look at anything particularly worth noticing, I am _always told_ it is
for _Madame de Fleury_! Is Mademoiselle Melanie in her drawing-room? Is
she accessible at this moment?"
"She has just come in; Mademoiselle Ruth will conduct you to her,"
answered Victorine, with an offended air.
"M. de Bois, I will be back soon," said Mrs. Gilmer to her escort.
"There are books in abundance in yonder library,--rather an
extraordinary piece of furniture for a dressmaker's _salon_, but,
Mademoiselle Melanie has so much tact, she foresaw that they might be
useful on some occasions."
Mrs. Gilmer followed Ruth to Madeleine's own apartments, which were on
the first floor. Victorine returned to the room where the sewing-women
were at work. Gaston selected a book and seated himself in a comfortable
arm-chair.
He had hardly opened the volume when the Marchioness de Fleury entered,
accompanied by Lord Linden.
As she descended from the carriage she had found his lordship
promenading up and down before the house. He was overjoyed at this
unlooked-for opportunity to obtain admission.
Madame de Fleury saluted Gaston with one of her most gracious smiles.
Victorine, catching sight of the marchioness, hurried forward, saying to
Ruth,--
"Do not trouble yourself, Mademoiselle Ruth, I will have the honor of
attending upon Madame de Fleury."
"That is right, Mademoiselle Victorine; but I am going to intrude into
your _atelier_ of mysteries, and see what _chef d'oeuvres_ you have in
progress."
Judging from Madame de Fleury's tone, one might easily have supposed
that she alluded to pictures or statues, and was about reverently to
enter the studio of some mighty genius, and wonder over his achievements
in marble or on canvas. The apartment she invaded was one which
visitors were not usually invited, or expected, to enter.
The gentlemen were left together.
"I am in luck!" said Lord Linden in an unusually animated tone. "My dear
M. de Bois, I am the happiest of men! I have encountered my unknown
beauty at last! She passed me in a private carriage, which stopped here
and was dismissed. I saw her enter this house not a quarter of an hour
ago. She did not perceive me, and had disappeared before I could accost
her; but I determined to keep watch until she made her exit, and then
either to renew my acquaintance or to follow her home and learn where
she lived. She shall not give me the slip again."
"Are you sure you have not made some mistake? I do not think there is
any lady here, at this moment, except Mrs. Gilmer, whom I accompanied."
"I am perfectly certain I could not be mistaken. I shall make some
excuse for remaining here; I will select a shawl or mantle for my
sister, who is one of this celebrated Mademoiselle Melanie's customers,
and who will not be displeased at such an unprecedented attention."
Before M. de Bois could reply, the marchioness returned with Victorine.
"And you say my dress for this evening will be done in an hour? That is
delightful! I am impatient to test its effects. I am half inclined to
wait until it is finished, and take it home with me."
"It shall be completed _within_ the hour; I am occupied upon it
_myself_," answered Victorine, with a fawning manner, very different
from that by which the banker's wife had been kept in subjection.
"What an original idea!" cried Madame de Fleury, pausing before the
uncompleted dress which had attracted the admiration of Mrs. Gilmer.
"What an exquisite conception! Those blades of golden wheat and those
scarlet poppies make the most perfect trimming for these ravishing
shades of green; just the colors that become me most. That dress is a
triumph, Mademoiselle Victorine!"
"The design is Mademoiselle Melanie's, but the _cut_, the _execution_,
they are _mine_," said the forewoman, complacently.
"And for whom is the dress intended? But I need hardly ask,--I am
determined that it shall be _mine_."
"It was to be sent to New Orleans to Madame la Motte, wife of the
distinguished senator. But, I beg to assure madame that she cannot
judge of this attire; it is nothing now. In a few days, when it is
completed, then madame will be able to see that we have surpassed
ourselves in that dress."
"You have, indeed!" ejaculated Madame de Fleury, with fervor. "But I
claim it. You must invent something else for Madame la Motte.
Mademoiselle Melanie surely will not refuse me."
"If the decision depended upon _me_, the dress would assuredly become
Madame de Fleury's; although the design has been sent to Madame la
Motte, and has met with her approbation; but Mademoiselle Melanie is so
frightfully conscientious, she would not disappoint a customer, or break
her word, or give a design promised one person to another for a kingdom.
She is quite immovable, obstinately unreasonable on these points."
"But I _must_ have that dress," persisted the marchioness. "I cannot be
happy without it! I will implore Mademoiselle Melanie; she will drive me
to despair should she refuse."
"Mrs. Gilmer saw it a few moments ago, and was so enchanted that she did
her utmost to make me promise that the dress should be hers."
"_Hers_, indeed! That impertinent little _parvenue_!" replied Madame de
Fleury. "I would never forgive Mademoiselle Melanie if she consented to
anything of the kind. I suppose the banker's wife imagines this delicate
green would tone down her milk-maid complexion. But she shall not try
the experiment."
At this moment Mrs. Gilmer herself reëntered. The marchioness pretended
not to be aware of her presence, and, turning to the dress in question,
remarked,--
"Yes, this dress _must_ be one of the twelve that I shall order to take
with me to Maryland. Twelve will suffice for one week. I hear Mr.
Meredith's estate could bear comparison with our European country
residences; the toilets of his guests should do honor to their host."
She went on, addressing herself to Gaston. "There are but thirty guests
invited, and I hear that great indignation is felt by _certain persons_
who are not included in the number."
Madame de Fleury's shaft was directed towards Mrs. Gilmer, who was
writhing with vexation, at not forming one of the select party.
Mrs. Gilmer heard, and bit her lips with suppressed rage.
"Twelve dresses!" cried Lord Linden. "Twelve new dresses for seven
days?"
"Quite a moderate supply; but I could not possibly get through the week
with less," answered Madame de Fleury, serenely. "You are invited of
course?"
Lord Linden replied in the affirmative.
"And you, M. de Bois?" inquired the marchioness innocently, though she
was quite aware that he would repeat his lordship's answer, for she had
been consulted in regard to the guests whom it would gratify her to
meet.
Mrs. Gilmer, who was choking with vexation, sought revenge in one of
those petty manoeuvres which women of the world thoroughly understand.
She paused, in the most natural manner, before the hat which she had
just extolled, and which she had been informed was designed for Madame
de Fleury, and said aloud,--
"What a pretty bonnet! Admirably suited to hide the defects of an
uncertain complexion, and hair of no color, neither light nor dark. It
is not too gay or coquettish either; just the thing for a woman of
thirty, who has begun to fade."
"I beg pardon, madame, it is intended for Madame de Fleury," answered
Victorine, reprovingly, and not immediately comprehending the
intentional spite of Mrs. Gilmer's remark.
"Indeed!" returned the latter, still speaking as though she had no
suspicion of the presence of the marchioness; "will it not be rather
_young_ for her? It seems to me that these colors are a _little too
bright_ for a person of _her age_."
"Madame de Fleury is present, and may overhear you," whispered
Victorine, warningly.
"Ah, indeed! I did not perceive her; much obliged to you for telling me,
for she conceals her age so well that I would not mortify her by letting
her suppose that I am aware of her advanced years," continued the
malicious little lady in a very audible tone.
Madame de Fleury was, in reality, but twenty-five, and particularly
sensitive on the subject of her age, or rather of her youth. She
expected to be taken for twenty-two at the most, and had been furious
when Mrs. Gilmer talked of her bonnet as suitable to a person of thirty;
but when her spiteful rival had the audacity to suggest that Madame de
Fleury had even passed that decisive period, she could scarcely contain
her rage. By a sudden impulse she turned and faced the speaker. Both
ladies made a profound courtesy, with countenances expressive of mortal
hatred.
Lord Linden could not help whispering to Gaston, "Feminine belligerents!
Those courtesies were exchanged after the manner that men exchange
blows. It is very strange," he continued, looking about. "I do not see
my fair incognita, though she certainly entered here. I fancy the
marchioness intends to depart; I prefer to linger awhile. There are
several _salons_ yonder; I will steal off quietly and take refuge where
I can watch who passes."
Lord Linden had hardly disappeared before the marchioness remarked to
Victorine, "You said my dress would be ready in an hour, Mademoiselle
Victorine? I will take a short drive and return in that time. Let
Mademoiselle Melanie know that I particularly wish to have an interview
with her. I must see her about that unfinished dress which certainly
shall not go to New Orleans."
She courtesied once more very profoundly to Mrs. Gilmer and departed,
quite forgetting Lord Linden, who was well pleased not to be missed.
"Mademoiselle Melanie will not be so unjust as to let Madame de Fleury
have that dress after refusing it to me," observed Mrs. Gilmer tartly.
"If she is, I _never more_"--
The threat was nipped in the bud, for she well knew no one could replace
the sovereign modiste, and that the loss of Mrs. Gilmer's custom would
not in the least affect Mademoiselle Melanie, who daily refused a crowd
of applicants.
Recovering herself, the banker's wife concluded by saying, "Madame de
Fleury is to return in an hour; very well; I will call somewhat later to
learn Mademoiselle Melanie's decision. If the dress is not mine it
certainly must not be Madame de Fleury's. We shall see if Mademoiselle
Melanie's boasted justice is found wanting, or if she acts up to her
professions."
M. de Bois conducted Mrs. Gilmer to her carriage, and returned to the
_salon_; for he had an especial reason for desiring to see Madeleine;
but, having called during the hours which she scrupulously devoted to
her vocation, he did not feel at liberty to intrude in her private
apartments.