“So zat is bettair. Madame will sit here and relax.” Marie wrapped a dressing-gown about her mistress and seated her in a comfortable lounging chair.
“It will take me about half an hour for ze work. In Mees Elinor’s room I have all ze things necessaire, so I feex heem in zere,” the maid explained.
When Marie had departed with the dress, Marjorie tilted her head comfortably against the headrest of the chair and gazed intently at the ceiling. “How surprised the family will be when I go down to dinner,” she reflected anticipatingly. Hugh would be pleased, she felt sure. He had urged her so often to try to modernize her ideas. Of course, her awakening as to his short-comings had been somewhat rude and sudden, but she would try to think it had been for the best. Perhaps they would drift back again into their old days of love and devotion. She smiled wryly as she thought how Howard’s tactless little speech had done more for her than all of Hugh’s pleadings and Elinor’s criticisms.
Further reflection was cut short by Marie’s enthusiastic entrance.
“Oh, Madame,” she exclaimed in her enthusiastic way, “ze dress is magnifique! I hafe feex heem so good—no, no,” holding it behind her as Marjorie attempted to examine it. “First I will put heem on you and zen you shall—see!”
“All right, I’ll close my eyes.” Marjorie laughed, as Marie slipped the gown over her head.
“Now—Madame will please to look.”
Marjorie walked to the long cheval mirror and started in genuine astonishment at the apparition before her.
“Marie, what have you done to me!” she exclaimed in hushed wonderment. “I hardly recognize myself!”
“Madame ees vairy beautiful.” The little maid beamed delightedly. “Eet ees just zat all ze beauty be brought out.”