The Grey Wig | Page 5

and that the
same candle would light two persons, provided they sat in the same
room. And if they did not fall out of the habit of companionship even at
the crémerie, though "two portions for one" were not served, their
union at least kept the sexagenarians in countenance. Two brown wigs
give each other a moral support, are on the way to a fashion.
But there was more than wigs and cheese-parings in their camaraderie.
Madame Dépine found a fathomless mine of edification in Madame
Valière's reminiscences, which she skilfully extracted from her, finding
the average ore rich with noble streaks, though the old tirewoman had

an obstinate way of harking back to her girlhood, which made some
delvings result in mere earth.
On the Day of the Dead Madame Dépine emerged into importance,
taking her friend with her to the Cemetery Montparnasse to see the
glass flowers blooming immortally over the graves of her husband and
children. Madame Dépine paid the omnibus for both (inside places),
and felt, for once, superior to the poor "Princess," who had never
known the realities of love and death.

VII
Two months passed. Another of Madame Valière's teeth fell out.
Madame Dépine's cheeks grew more pendulous. But their brown wigs
remained as fadeless as the cemetery flowers.
One day they passed the hairdresser's shop together. It was indeed next
to the tobacconist's, so not easy to avoid, whenever one wanted a stamp
or a postcard. In the window, amid pendent plaits of divers hues,
bloomed two wax busts of females--the one young and coquettish and
golden-haired, the other aristocratic in a distinguished grey wig. Both
wore diamond rosettes in their hair and ropes of pearls round their
necks. The old ladies' eyes met, then turned away.
"If one demanded the price!" said Madame Dépine (who had already
done so twice).
"It is an idea!" agreed Madame Valière.
"The day will come when one's nieces will be married."
"But scarcely when New Year's Day shall cease to be," the "Princess"
sighed.
"Still, one might win in the lottery!"
"Ah! true. Let us enter, then."

"One will be enough. You go." Madame Dépine rather dreaded the
coiffeur, whom intercourse with jocose students had made severe.
But Madame Valière shrank back shyly. "No, let us both go." She
added, with a smile to cover her timidity, "Two heads are better than
one."
"You are right. He will name a lower price in the hope of two orders."
And, pushing the "Princess" before her like a turret of defence,
Madame Dépine wheeled her into the ladies' department.
The coiffeur, who was washing the head of an American girl, looked up
ungraciously. As he perceived the outer circumference of Madame
Dépine projecting on either side of her turret, he emitted a glacial "Bon
jour, mesdames."
"Those grey wigs--" faltered Madame Valière
"I have already told your friend." He rubbed the American head
viciously.
Madame Dépine coloured. "But--but we are two. Is there no reduction
on taking a quantity?"
"And why then? A wig is a wig. Twice a hundred francs are two
hundred francs."
"One hundred francs for a wig!" said Madame Valière, paling. "I did
not pay that for the one I wear."
"I well believe it, madame. A grey wig is not a brown wig."
"But you just said a wig is a wig."
The coiffeur gave angry rubs at the head, in time with his explosive
phrases. "You want real hair, I presume--and to your measure--and to
look natural--and convenable!" (Both old ladies shuddered at the word.)
"Of course, if you want it merely for private theatricals--"

"Private theatricals!" repeated Madame Dépine, aghast.
"A comédienne's wig I can sell you for a bagatelle. That passes at a
distance."
Madame Valière ignored the suggestion. "But why should a grey wig
cost more than any other?"
The coiffeur shrugged his shoulders. "Since there are less grey hairs in
the world--"
"Comment!" repeated Madame Valière, in amazement.
"It stands to reason," said the coiffeur. "Since most persons do not live
to be old--or only live to be bald." He grew animated, professorial
almost, seeing the weight his words carried to unthinking bosoms.
"And since one must provide a fine hair-net for a groundwork, to
imitate the flesh-tint of the scalp, and since each hair of the parting
must be treated separately, and since the natural wave of the hair must
be reproduced, and since you will also need a block for it to stand on at
nights to guard its shape--"
"But since one has already blocks," interposed Madame Dépine.
"But since a conscientious artist cannot trust another's block! Represent
to yourself also that the shape of the head does not remain as fixed as
the dome of the Invalides, and that--"
"Eh bien, we will think," interrupted Madame