Louise pouted a little, looked longingly at the grass-green hat, but finally succumbed to the black hat with the crimson ribbon.
Margot brought her before a large mirror and made her see herself in both hats.
"Ah, bah, thou must not be seen in that!" she said, flinging the grass-green chapeau aside. "Now behold the other hat! The complexion it softens, the eyes they glow, the crimson note of colour softens the colour in thy lips and cheeks. It is très beau that chapeau; it suits thee, Louise. It is my wish that thou shouldst wear it."
"Ah, c'est bien," exclaimed Louise. "But the price, the price must be low."
"One hundred and fifty francs," said Margot, in a calm, steady voice, "not a penny less, not a penny more. Behold the quality of the black, look for thyself at the shape, see how the ribbon entwines itself, just enough and no more, as I have placed it. One hundred and fifty francs—I have spoken."
"I cannot pay you now," said Louise. "You will let it lie against my little account."
"Non, non, that I never do," said Margot. "Those who buy from la petite Comtesse pay as they buy. Thou mayst, if thou dost please, Louise, buy a chapeau of Madame Marcelle; but for me, I take my black hat to another customer. She is looking at it with eyes that devour."
Certainly Louise Grognan felt inclined to stamp her feet, to rage, to utter a wicked little swear; but Margot did not take the least notice. She sold the beautiful black hat to a striking-looking American girl, and the grass-green hat was purchased by Louise and put down to the account of the said young lady by Madame Marcelle.
Now, indeed, her anger was at its height. She hated little Margot because she could not in the least compete with her. The grave dignity of the child was beyond her power to emulate. She of the people could not imitate that other one of the aristocrats. She might call her the little shopkeeper as much as she liked, but she really was la petite Comtesse and not only the assistants in the établissement adored her, but all the customers insisted on having la petite Comtesse to serve them.
Louise was now ripe for revenge. She hated the handsome child, who was so grave, so firm and dignified and full of that resolve which can only be called by its true name, the tone of the aristocrats.