The Grey Wig | Page 9

in its place reigned an angelic exaltation.

XII
Eleven days later Madame Vali��re and Madame D��pine set out on the great expedition to the hairdresser's to try on the Wig. The "Princess's" excitement was no less tense than the fortunate winner's. Neither had slept a wink the night before, but the November morning was keen and bright, and supplied an excellent tonic. They conversed with animation on the English in Egypt, and Madame D��pine recalled the gallant death of her son, the chasseur.
The coiffeur saluted them amiably. Yes, mesdames, it was a beautiful morning. The wig was quite ready. Behold it there--on its block.
Madame Vali��re's eyes turned thither, then grew clouded, and returned to Madame D��pine's head and thence back to the Grey Wig.
"It is not this one?" she said dubiously.
"Mais, oui." Madame D��pine was nodding, a great smile transfiguring the emaciated orb of her face. The artist's eyes twinkled.
"But this will not fit you," Madame Vali��re gasped.
"It is a little error, I know," replied Madame D��pine.
"But it is a great error," cried Madame Vali��re, aghast. And her angry gaze transfixed the coiffeur.
"It is not his fault--I ought not to have let him measure you."
"Ha! Did I not tell you so?" Triumph softened her anger. "He has mixed up the two measurements!"
"Yes. I suspected as much when I went in to inquire the other day; but I was afraid to tell you, lest it shouldn't even fit you."
"Fit me!" breathed Madame Vali��re.
"But whom else?" replied Madame D��pine, impatiently, as she whipped off the "Princess's" wig. "If only it fits you, one can pardon him. Let us see. Stand still, ma ch��re," and with shaking hands she seized the grey wig.
"But--but--" The "Princess" was gasping, coughing, her ridiculous scalp bare.
"But stand still, then! What is the matter? Are you a little infant? Ah! that is better. Look at yourself, then, in the mirror. But it is perfect!" "A true Princess," she muttered beatifically to herself. "Ah, how she will show up the fruit-vendor's daughter!"
As the "Princess" gazed at the majestic figure in the mirror, crowned with the dignity of age, two great tears trickled down her pendulous cheeks.
"I shall be able to go to the wedding," she murmured chokingly.
"The wedding!" Madame D��pine opened her eyes. "What wedding?"
"My nephew's, of course!"
"Your nephew is marrying? I congratulate you. But why did you not tell me?"
"I did mention it. That day I had a letter!"
"Ah! I seem to remember. I had not thought of it." Then briskly: "Well, that makes all for the best again. Ah! I was right not to scold monsieur le coiffeur too much, was I not?"
"You are very good to be so patient," said Madame Vali��re, with a sob in her voice.
Madame D��pine shot her a dignified glance. "We will discuss our affairs at home. Here it only remains to say whether you are satisfied with the fit."
Madame Vali��re patted the wig, as much in approbation as in adjustment. "But it fits me to a miracle!"
"Then we will pay our friend, and wish him le bon jour." She produced the fifty francs--two gold pieces, well sounding, for which she had exchanged her silver and copper, and two five-franc pieces. "And voil��," she added, putting down a franc for pourboire, "we are very content with the artist."
The "Princess" stared at her, with a new admiration.
"Merci bien," said the coiffeur, fervently, as he counted the cash. "Would that all customers' heads lent themselves so easily to artistic treatment!"
"And when will my friend's wig be ready?" said the "Princess."
"Madame Vali��re! What are you saying there? Monsieur will set to work when I bring him the fifty francs."
"Mais non, madame. I commence immediately. In a week it shall be ready, and you shall only pay on delivery."
"You are very good. But I shall not need it yet--not till the winter--when the snows come," said Madame D��pine, vaguely. "Bon jour, monsieur;" and, thrusting the old wig on the new block, and both under her shawl, she dragged the "Princess" out of the shop. Then, looking back through the door, "Do not lose the measurement, monsieur," she cried. "One of these days!"

XIII
The grey wig soon showed its dark side. Its possession, indeed, enabled Madame Vali��re to loiter on the more lighted stairs, or dawdle in the hall with Madame la Propri��taire; but Madame D��pine was not only debarred from these dignified domestic attitudes, but found a new awkwardness in bearing Madame Vali��re company in their walks abroad. Instead of keeping each other in countenance--duoe contra mundum--they might now have served as an advertisement for the coiffeur and the convenable. Before the grey wig--after the grey wig.
Wherefore Madame D��pine was not so very sorry when, after a few weeks of this discomforting contrast, the hour drew near of the "Princess's" departure for the family wedding; especially as she was