per to be sent to the
four quarters of the globe; on the first floor, or _entresol_, are
workrooms full of girls seated at long tables and sewing under the
directing eye of a severe-looking matron; on the second floor are
generally situated the show- and reception-rooms. The first saloon is
sombre: the ceiling appears, in the daytime, blackened by gas; the walls
are wainscoted in imitation ebony with gold fillets, and large panels
above the chair-rail are filled with verdure tapestries of the most
dismal green, chosen expressly to throw into relief the freshness and
gayety of the dresses; on the chimney-piece, and reflected in the glass,
is a clock surmounted by a monumental statue of Diana in nickeled
imitation bronze and flanked by two immense candelabra; along the walls
are two or three large wardrobes with looking-glass doors; in the
middle of the room is a table for displaying materials, with a few
chairs, and in one corner a desk, where is seated M. Cyprien or M.
Alexandre, the bookkeeper. In this room the customers are received by a
tall and very elegant young lady, invariably dressed in black satin in
winter and black silk in summer. Through this soft-spoken person, who
bears the title _of premiere vendeuse_, or first saleswoman, the
customers are put into communication either with the great artist
himself or simply with one of the _premieres_, or heads of departments,
if their orders are not of sufficient importance to justify an
interruption of the great man in his innumerable and absorbing
occupations. Opening out of this first saloon are a number of smaller
saloons, all equally sombre, colorless, and shabby-looking, especially
by daylight. There are extra show-rooms and trying-on-rooms, besides
which there is a special room for trying on riding-habits, and another
for the chief of the corsage department, to say nothing of little rooms
draped with blue, brown, or red for special purposes. Over these dingy
carpets and among these old tapestries and sombre furniture glide
noiselessly from room to room young women on whose sloping shoulders and
lissome figures the "creations" of Messieurs les Couturiers show to the
best advantage. These are the _demoiselles-mannequins_, or
_essayeuses_,--mute but breathing models, who seem to have lost all
human animation in their occupation of mere clothes-wearers, automata
with weary faces, whose sole business is to carry on their backs from
morning until night luminous vesture