Louise departed, and M'selle Blanc and M'selle Close consulted together how they were to turn themselves into jeunes demoiselles. They had, it is true, many patrons, and after consulting for a short time together, they decided to adopt the names of two young ladies who had come to the Cabinet de Beauté to have their hands manicured, and who belonged to the noblesse.
These young ladies, they were assured, were absent from home at present. They might with safety take their names. They were the daughters of the Marquis Odile. They had only lately taken a house at Arles, where they lived with their father and mother, and were called the Marquise Clotilde and the Marquise Rose.
"Ah," exclaimed M'selle Blanc, "that name will suit my chapeau noir, garnished with roses la reine."
The Marquise Clotilde would look very sweet indeed in her très petit chapeau.
The chapeaux arrived, all in good time. The ladies arranged themselves in fear and trembling; saw that they could appear with perfect ease as les jeunes demoiselles; and went to bed that night with hearts beating high with excitement. Ah, but the revenge was good, and the adventure of the whole thing was exciting.
They scarcely slept that night for thinking of their triumph. Early the next morning, by the explicit directions of Louise, they attired themselves in dresses of pure white with little sashes of blue. The ravishing hats were perched on their heads, the slight touch of rouge was delicately applied to each faded cheek, and then large veils were put on to cover any possible defects.
They were naturally slight in figure. Sharp at ten in the morning, at the very hour when Louise told them it would be right for them to go, they started on their mission to the Château St. Juste. Louise had sent one of her father's cars for them. This was to wait to bring them back again.
Madame la Comtesse was always out at that hour. She was in reality occupied in the back premises of the établissement; for Madame Marcelle was little better than a figurehead. The old Comte was alone. He felt well and happy—the day was a mild one. He thought he would enjoy the outside air. He would even go in the direction of the peach garden.
Suddenly, as he was approaching it, he raised his delicate old hand to protect his sunken, dark eyes, and to watch in surprise an automobile which was coming quickly down the avenue. He wanted to fly; but a check string was applied, the chauffeur stopped à l'instant, and two pretty girls approached—the Marquises Odile, connections of his. Ah, yes, assuredly. They introduced themselves, they talked, they chatted.