"Oh, whatever you please," replied the marchioness, lightly. "Take me prisoner, gag me, plunder me, what you will, I shall not complain: the dress is worth it; and we have never had any discussion in regard to prices."
"But the price in question is not one that can be paid with money; the price I place upon this dress is the granting of a favor,—a favor most precious to me."
"A favor? you have only to speak. Do you want an office for a friend? A recommendation for some ambitious compatriot to the emperor? A pardon for some exiled transgressor? Anything possible to the wife of the French ambassador is at your service; you have but to speak."
"My petition is somewhat easier to grant; for I only ask a few words from you in writing."
As she said this, Madeleine opened a desk, and placed upon it a sheet of note-paper, a gold pen, and an inkstand. Then she paused, and said, hesitatingly,—
"Yet, though I ask but these few written words, in full compensation for that dress, the materials of which as well as the work being mine, I fear to make my petition known, for I feel that it will cost you much to comply with my wishes."
"Nonsense! speak plainly," said Madame de Fleury, smoothing her ribbons with caressing touches.
"I would solicit an invitation to your ball for one of your acquaintances who, as yet, has received none, and who chances to be one of my customers."
"Is that all? We are enacting much ado about nothing," said the marchioness, seating herself smilingly at the desk. "You shall have the invitation, modest and mysterious petitioner. What name shall I write?"