Miss Clermont smiled.
“Why do you smile, Miss Clermont?”
“You do not know your father, Miss Richmond.”
“I assure you we have parted finally,” said Beatrice. “If you have any idea that in following my fortunes you are going with a person in the position I had until two hours ago, put it out of your mind. I can pay your wages—beg pardon, salary it is now—through next month—perhaps for another month after that. Then I shall be— Well, mine is a precious small income—and will be smaller. However, I’ll see that you get a place soon.”
Miss Clermont smiled.
“Why do you smile, Miss Clermont? Because you don’t believe me?”
“Not at all, Miss Richmond,” protested Valentine. “If you’re right about your situation—then I shall stay with you until you are settled—and, possibly, I can help you. If you are wrong—then I shall stay on as your maid until you marry. After that—Monsieur Léry and I are engaged. When we marry we shall go into business together.”
Beatrice paused in arranging her hair, turned and, half sitting on the low bureau, looked at her companion with the expression of one who has just given birth to a new and fascinating idea. “Why shouldn’t we go into business—you and I?” she said. “I’ll have to do something,” she went on. “I simply can’t content myself to live on—on what I’ll have after a few days from now. I love luxury—nice surroundings—good things to eat—beautiful clothes. Why not dressmaking?”
“We should get rich at it,” declared Miss Clermont.
And then it came out that she and Léry had been planning a dressmaking business. Miss Richmond was just what they needed to make it a swift and stupendous success. They had ten thousand dollars. If Miss Richmond could put in as much and would be a public partner attracting fashionable trade, giving the establishment eclat by wearing beautiful dresses in fashionable restaurants or for drives in the Avenue, and so on—and so on. “I can put in at least ten thousand,” said Beatrice. “And I have ideas about clothes.”