Here the count uttered an exclamation of violent displeasure, but M. de Bois went on,—
"He had requested Mademoiselle Madeleine if she ever visited America to let him know. He called upon her at once, and she frankly told him the story of her trials, and the conclusion to which they had forced her. He highly approved of her energy, her zeal, and spirit. She made him promise to keep her rank and name a secret. He brought his wife and daughter to see her, and they became her stanch, admiring, and helpful friends. Through them alone, she would quickly have been drawn into notice; but a more powerful medium to popularity was at work. The sensation produced by Madame de Fleury's toilets caused all Washington to flock to the exhibition-rooms of 'Mademoiselle Melanie,' who was known to be her couturière. Soon, it became a favor for 'Mademoiselle Melanie' to receive new customers. She was forced to move to the elegant mansion where she now resides. It is one of the grandest houses in Washington, and Mademoiselle Melanie has only one more payment to make before it becomes her own. The fact is, people have gone crazy about her. Those who seek her merely upon business, when they come into her presence, are impressed with the conviction that she is not merely their equal, but their superior, and treat her with involuntary deference. She is rapidly becoming rich, and she has the glory of knowing that it is through the labor of her own dainty hands, her own 'fairy fingers!'"
"Oh, all she has done was truly noble!" said Bertha, with enthusiasm.
"It was disgraceful!" cried the countess, fiercely. "She might better have starved! She has torn down her glorious escutcheon to replace it by a mantua-maker's sign. She has stooped to make dresses!—to receive customers! Abominable!"
M. de Bois, for a moment forgetting the courtesy due to the rank and years of the countess, replied indignantly, "Madame, did she not make your dresses for three years? Have you not been one of her customers? An unprofitable customer? The profit was the only difference between what she did at the Château de Gramont and what she does in the city of Washington!"
"Sir!" exclaimed the countess, giving him a look of rebuke, which was intended to silence these unpalatable truths.
"You are right, M. de Bois," answered Bertha, not noticing the furious glance of her aunt. "That was a random shaft of yours, but it hits the mark, and strikes me as well as my aunt; yet I thank you for it; I thank you for defending Madeleine; I thank you for befriending her. I shall never forget it—never!"
Bertha frankly stretched out her hand to him; he took it with joyful emotion.
"Whom would she have to defend her if I did not, since her family discard her? Since even an able young lawyer utters not a word to plead her cause?" he added, looking reproachfully at Maurice. "But she shall never lack a defender while I live, for I love her as a sister! I venerate her as a saint. To me she is the type of all that is best and noblest in the world! The type of that which is greater, more valuable than glory, more useful than fame, more noble than the blood of countesses and duchesses—honest labor!"
Bertha's responsive look spoke her approval.