"I am delighted to hear you say so," returned Maurice, "for I am very desirous of having the pleasure of paying my respects."
"Madame is preparing for a matinée, at the Spanish Embassy. She is just coiffé, and monsieur should see what a magnificent head I have made for her. Notwithstanding my success with her head she is at this moment in deep distress: her dress has not yet arrived; we expect it every moment! Madame's agitation is overpowering. She is quite unequal to encountering a disappointment of this crushing nature. She begs monsieur will excuse"—
Before she could finish the sentence, the marchioness herself appeared, wrapped in a delicate, rose-colored robe-de-chambre, prodigally adorned with lace and embroidery.
"My dear M. de Gramont, I meant to excuse myself; but as I am forced to wait for that tantalizing dress, a few moments with you, en attendant, will divert my thoughts. I had heard from M. de Bois, that the Countess de Gramont and her son, with Mademoiselle de Merrivale, are honoring Washington by their presence; but I was informed that you were not here. You see I paid you the compliment of inquiring."
As she spoke, she glanced at the mirror opposite, and arranged the long sprays of feathery flowers that were mingled with her braided tresses.
"I am highly flattered at not being forgotten," replied Maurice. "I only arrived this morning, and hastened to pay my respects."
"And you ought to be very much flattered that I can spare you an instant, at such a critical moment. Here is my toilet for this matinée at a dead stand-still, because that tiresome dress has not come. It is one I ordered expressly for the occasion, and, I assure you, it is a perfect triumph of art,—a victory gained over great obstacles. Let me tell you, nothing is more difficult to manage than an appropriate costume for a matinée. One's toilet must be a delicate compromise between ball attire and full visiting dress, but Mademoiselle Melanie has hit the juste milieu; and succeeded in carrying me through all the perils of Scylla and Charybdis. Oh, dear! oh, dear!" (stamping her tiny slippered foot) "will that dress never come?"
"It must be very trying!" said Maurice, endeavoring to assume a tone of sympathy.
"Trying? it is killing! Imagine my state of mind. I cannot go without this dress: all my other toilets have been seen more than once in public; and this one was sure to create a sensation,—was planned for this very occasion!"