olutely new creation," and he
whispered, "It was ordered for Mrs. Pelham--the young one, you know, but
it didn't suit her." He whispered still more confidentially, "She was
too old!"

After that how could Milly help "just trying it on"?

The girl who brought the hat exclaimed with a charming smile and a
decided French accent, "It cannot be--but it is--it _is_ Madame
Brag-donne!"

"Jeanne--Jeanine!" and they almost embraced, to the scandal of Bamberg.

It was one of the girls Milly had known at Gage's, the chief
_demoiselle_ of the pastry shop. And how was Madame Catteau, the
_patronne_, and when did Jeanne come to America? The hat was forgotten
while the two chattered half in French and half in English about Gage's,
Paris, and Chicago....

Of course Milly bought the hat in the end,--it was such a "jewel" and
became her as if "it were made for Madame Brag-donne," who, Jeanne
averred, was really more than half French. (Bamberg generously cut the
price to "nothing,--$35," and Milly promised to "pay when I can, you
know." Which perfectly contented the man-milliner. "We know _you_, Mrs.
Bragdon," he said, conducting her himself to the Kemps' motor in which
she had come.)

The negotiations over the hat, which had to be altered several times,
gave Milly a chance to confide in her old friend Jeanne the New Idea. A
Cake Shop--a real Paris _patisserie_, _chic_, and with French pastry,
here in this Chicago! The idea thrilled the pretty French woman, and
they discussed many of the details. "I must have a real French pastry
cook, and girls, Paris girls like you," Milly said with sudden
inspiration, "and a _madame_, of course, and the little marble-topped
tables and all the rest" as nearly as possible like the adorable Gage's.
Jeanne thought that it would be "furiously successful." There would be
nothing like it in Chicago or anywhere else in the new world, where
Madame Brag-donne would admit the eating was not all that it might be in
quality. Oh, yes, it was a brilliant idea and Jean remembered a
sister-in-law who would make a remarkable _dame de comptoir_. She was
living in strict retirement at Grenoble, the fault of a wretched man she
had been feeble enough to marry....

Thus by the time the hat was hers Milly's scheme had taken definite
form, and it was also time for her to return to New York. "But I shall
be back soon," she told all her friends confidently, with a mysterious
nod of her pretty head.

* *