"But thou dost give pleasure to the old man, thy grandpère. Think of that, ma petite."
"I will give him greater pleasure when I go to school," said Margot. "I will bring him back day by day stories—ah, of the funniest. He will laugh. Thou wilt see, Comtesse, how he will enjoy himself."
"Ma petite, thou hast a wise head," said the Comtesse. "Thou shalt have thy way. There is a school for the trimming of hats and for the perfect education in the French tongue, by one Thérèse Marcelle. I will take thee to her to-morrow morning."
"But I don't want to learn to trim hats," said Margot.
"Ah, but it is a rare accomplishment, little one. Thou will learn it and peut-être the piano also, and peut-être the French tongue in all its perfection."
"And are the girls at Thérèse Marcelle's old young, or only young?" enquired Margot.
"Ah, ma petite bébé, they are one and all of the youngest and the gayest. See, I will take thee to-morrow. I am the last woman in the world to break my word."
Margot skipped away in her light and graceful manner and the next morning she and the Comtesse St. Juste drove into Arles in one of the very newest and best motor-cars of the time. They stopped before a large magasin, which looked to little Margot far more like a gorgeous shop than a school. There were chapeaux innumerable displayed in certain windows, there were all sorts of robes—robes of every sort and description also to be seen.
Madame entered smiling, holding the little hand of la petite. She was greeted by smiles from every one in the shop. In fact, her entrance seemed to bring a ray of sunshine with it. All the young women who were walking about and attending to different customers were trying to catch her eye in order to secure one of her much treasured smiles.