Fairy Fingers - BestLightNovel.com
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Madeleine perceived her intention, and, suddenly lifting the dress out of the _carton_, rolled it up rapidly, for the materials were light.
"I prove to whom the dress belongs, madame, by disposing of it _thus_!"
And with the most perfect tranquillity, she flung the disputed prize into the fire! It was burning brightly, for the day was cool, though spring had commenced.
The marchioness, for a moment, was stunned; but, as the flames caught the lace, she cried out, "Save it! save it! It is burning! What an infamous action! What a crime! It has killed me!"
She dropped upon the sofa, and was seized with one of those hysterical paroxysms which French women designate as an _attaque de nerfs_.
Victorine, with a great display of distress, flew to the sufferer, loosened the strings of the bonnet which she was recklessly crus.h.i.+ng,--held a bottle of sal volatile to her nose (for the Frenchwoman was always prepared for similar pleasant excitements, and carried a vial in her pocket), and commenced rubbing the lady's hand with great energy.
"Save,--save the dress! Do not let it burn!" Madame de Fleury gasped out between her sobs.
"The dress is beyond saving, madame," replied Madeleine; "it no longer exists."
At this moment the marchioness suddenly recovered.
"And you have destroyed it? You have destroyed a toilet which would have made me talked of for a week! It is abominable,--it is disgraceful,--it is _criminal_!"
Madame de Fleury always used the strongest terms where matters of the toilet, the most important interests of her life, were in question.
"What am I to wear this evening? What is to become of me?"
The marchioness wrung her hands, and wept in genuine tribulation. She sunk back again upon the sofa, as though prostrated by her crus.h.i.+ng sorrow.
Madeleine allowed the grief of the fine lady to expend itself in incoherent lamentations, and then said, in an icy tone,--
"Madame, do you desire to appear to-night in a dress which far surpa.s.ses the one I have destroyed?"
The marchioness was sobbing so violently that she could only answer by a movement of the head.
"Do you desire to wear a dress which has been refused to others?--a dress which Mrs. Gilmer used every argument to induce me to finish for her, but in vain?--a dress which I would even have refused _you_, with whose wishes I have ever been ready to comply?"
"What--what dress? What do you mean?"
"I refer to the dress the design of which you so much admired this morning,--the dress which is to be sent to New Orleans for Madame la Motte."
"But that dress is not finished; it is hardly commenced; only the embroidery is completed. Mademoiselle Victorine told me it could not be done under three days."
"It shall be finished for _you_, if you so please, before it is time for you to dress for this evening's a.s.sembly."
"But that cannot be; it is not possible; it is four o'clock now; it would be a miracle!"
"Not quite," returned Madeleine, quietly. "In past days I was said to have the fingers of a fairy, and you shall admit that magical power remains to me. I repeat, the dress shall be completed, if you desire it, to-night."
"But you have sent the design to Madame la Motte, who has approved of it, and, I hear, you are bound not to furnish a duplicate to any one."
"True, I must run the risk of losing the confidence of a patron for the first time in my life. I will tell Madame la Motte the truth, and furnish her with another equally elaborate dress,--not a very easy matter, as it must leave here in three days by express, and a new design must not only be planned, but executed, within that time. I may lose Madame de la Motte's patronage,--her esteem; but that will be the price I pay for the favor I seek at your hands."
"The favor!" repeated the marchioness, abstractedly.
In her bewilderment and grief caused by the destruction of the dress, she had forgotten, for the moment, all that had just taken place.
Madeleine pointed to the note which the marchioness had commenced, and said,--
"The invitation for Mrs. Gilmer."
"Ah! Mrs. Gilmer!" cried Madame de Fleury, as though she had been stung by the name.
"As you remarked, it is four o'clock," continued Madeleine; "the dress ought to be at your house by half past nine; there is scarcely time for any one who only _pretends_ to be a fairy to accomplish the work. Four o'clock: it _is_ just possible that I have promised too much,--that is, if we lose many minutes. Have you decided to write me the invitation?"
"You do not give me time for reflection," said Madame de Fleury, hesitating.
"You scarcely give _me_ time," returned Madeleine, "to perform what I have promised; the moments are precious."
"You are sure the dress can be completed if--if I give you this invitation?"
"Yes, madame, if it be given _at once_. See," pointing to the clock, "five minutes have flown already, and in every moment we are to do the work of an hour. There is the pen."
Madame de Fleury took it reluctantly.
"That detestable Mrs. Gilmer will triumph so much!"
"You triumph in having obtained the dress that was refused to her, and has been refused to many others. But time flies, and I shall not be able, with all the magical aid for which I am given credit, to keep my word. Victorine, while Madame de Fleury is writing, apprise the young ladies to put by, as rapidly as possible, all other work, and be ready to take in hand that which I will give them directly. We want our whole force; let me find every one prepared to aid."
Victorine left the room to execute these orders.
Madame de Fleury seated herself and dipped the pen in ink.
"If you knew what it costs me to consent," she began.
"If I did _not_ know," rejoined Madeleine, "I should not have offered to make a sacrifice of so much importance. A few moments more and it will be too late to decide,--your consent will be of no avail."
"Ah, that is true," cried Madame de Fleury, writing rapidly.
She left the note unfolded on the desk, and, as she rose, said in a tone of ludicrously mingled petulance and elation, "You have conquered! But I shall have my dress!"
"Be sure of it!" answered Madeleine.
Victorine now announced that all other work had been laid aside, and the young ladies awaited Mademoiselle Melanie's commands.
"Go--go--go! or you will be too late!" urged Madame de Fleury, hurrying away.
Madeleine hastened to the work-room, and distributed portions of the dress to different needle-women. After giving a number of minute directions, and making known that she would return in a couple of hours to see what progress was made, she retired to write to Mrs. Gilmer.