She turned to address a servant, but Bertha stretched out her hand, almost as though she feared to lose sight of her. "Don't go! Don't go! Let me look! Can they be hers? Let me look again!"
Madame de Fleury, as unruffled as though these broken exclamations were perfectly natural and comprehensible, bent over Bertha caressingly, laying the tips of her delicately gloved fingers on her shoulder. Bertha wistfully examined the bracelet on the lady's arm, then fixed her eyes upon the necklace, brooch, and ear-rings, and lastly upon the tiara-like comb, about which the hair of the marchioness was arranged in a dexterous and novel manner.
Madame de Fleury was gratified, without being moved by the faintest surprise that her toilet had produced such an overpowering sensation. Bertha's emotion did not appear to her in the least misplaced or exaggerated.
"You admire this set of diamonds and emeralds very much, then?" she asked, complacently.
"The fleur-de-lis and shamrock," faltered Bertha, "where—where did they come from?"
Interpreting the unceremonious abruptness and singularity of the question into a spontaneous tribute paid to her costly ornaments, the marchioness graciously answered,—
"This parure was a delicate attention from M. de Fleury. Not long after he presented these diamonds to me, by a very strange coincidence Vignon sent this dress for my approval. You observe how dexterously the device of the necklace is imitated. Can anything be more perfect than these lilies and shamrock leaves?"
Bertha hastily glanced at the rich white silk robe, trimmed with revers of pale violet, upon which the lilies and shamrock were embroidered with some species of lustrous thread, which counterfeited not only the design but the sparkle of the gems. The marchioness went on,—
"Was it not odd that Vignon, famed as she is for novelties, should have chanced upon a dress which so exactly matched my new set? It quite makes me a convert to the science of animal magnetism. My mind, you see, was en rapport with hers. Indeed she says so herself, for she could not otherwise explain the sudden inspiration which caused her to plan this trimming. M. de Fleury wanted me to have these jewels set anew; but I would not allow them to be touched,—this old-fashioned setting is so remarkable, so unique. Probably there is not another like it to be found in Paris: that is always vantage ground gained over one's jewel-wearing adversaries."
The marchioness, once launched upon her favorite stream of talk, would have sailed on interminably, had not the announcement of new guests floated her upon another current.