"Ah! Monsieur," she replied, in a tone of inexpressible sadness, and addressing him in French, "I have had much trouble in the last two months. I have been greatly bereaved. My poor mother, sir—" she could go no farther, but broke down as she glanced at the black dress, and burst into a fit of silent but bitter weeping.
A shade of sympathetic sorrow passed over Wilkins' face,
and with a delicacy of feeling which would not have been expected in him, he stepped around to that side, where she was exposed to the view of the customers and clerks, and stood there as if he would, by the intervention of his huge form, screen her sorrow from the vulgar gaze.
After a few moments Blanche dried her eyes; and with a violent struggle for self-control, seemed to swallow her grief into her heart.
"You must pardon me, Mr. Wilkins, for giving way here. I thought, Monsieur, I could do better; but my grief lies very, very heavy here;" and she laid her hand, with touching grace, upon her heart.
"Ah, Mademoiselle," returned Wilkins, also in French, "I feel deeply for you, believe me. And you are alone now, and have no friends?"
"Oui, Monsieur, I have my blind grandfather, poor grandpapa; he is very feeble and infirm." She paused, as if the subject was one too painful to dwell upon, then drew toward her a little bundle, which she had laid upon the counter, and said: "I have here my broderie. I hope, Monsieur, you have not engaged any one else. I have worked day and night to finish what I had undertaken. I hope they please you."
Wilkins took the little roll, and drew thence several specimens of exquisite and tasteful embroidering, consisting
of one or two heavily worked mouchoirs, several collars, some insertion, edging, &c., &c. He examined them with a close and critical eye, then laying them down, with an encouraging smile, said:—
"These are more beautifully done than any we have yet had, Mademoiselle. These, really, command the highest price."