ight be tempted, by the certainty of the marchioness's
patronage, to visit America. Madame de Fleury was contented, and
immediately proposed that Mademoiselle Melanie should sail in the same
steamer. Vignon allowed two of her work-women to accompany her. The sum
Mademoiselle Madeleine had realized from her diamonds enabled her to
hire a modest house in Washington, and to furnish it tastefully. On her
arrival she sent for Mr. Hilson. Perhaps you remember him, Mademoiselle
Bertha? He once dined at the Chateau de Gramont."

Here the count uttered an exclamation of violent displeasure, but M. de
Bois went on,--

"He had requested Mademoiselle Madeleine if she ever visited America to
let him know. He called upon her at once, and she frankly told him the
story of her trials, and the conclusion to which they had forced her. He
highly approved of her energy, her zeal, and spirit. She made him
promise to keep her rank and name a secret. He brought his wife and
daughter to see her, and they became her stanch, admiring, and helpful
friends. Through them alone, she would quickly have been drawn into
notice; but a more powerful medium to popularity was at work. The
sensation produced by Madame de Fleury's toilets caused all Washington
to flock to the exhibition-rooms of 'Mademoiselle Melanie,' who was
known to be her _couturiere_. Soon, it became a favor for 'Mademoiselle
Melanie' to receive new customers. She was forced to move to the elegant
mansion where she now resides. It is one of the grandest houses in
Washington, and Mademoiselle Melanie has only one more payment to make
before it becomes her own. The fact is, people have gone crazy about
her. Those who seek her merely upon business, when they come into her
presence, are impressed with the conviction that she is not merely
their equal, but their superior, and treat her with involuntary
deference. She is rapidly becoming rich, and she has the glory of
knowing that it is through the labor of her own dainty hands, her own
'fairy fingers!'"

"Oh, all she has done was truly noble!" said Bertha, with enthusiasm.

"It was disgraceful!" cried the countess, fiercely. "She might better
have starved! She has torn down her glorious escutcheon to replace it by
a mantua-maker's sign. She has stooped to make dresses!--to receive
customers! Abominable!"

M. de Bois, for a moment forgetting the courtesy due to the rank and
years of the countess, replied indignantly, "Madame, did she not