Chapter 20 A Girl of High Adventure by L. T. Meade
A CONSPIRACY
Certainly Madame la Princesse de Fleury kept her school with a sort of easy nonchalance, which was much appreciated by the girls. In especial, these girls liked their half-holidays, when they could wander about pretty much as they pleased. It is true that the boarders had to submit to a certain amount of restraint, but as quite half the school were day girls they had only to say that they were going home to visit their dear relations, absolutely to satisfy that very innocent lady la Princesse.
Now, Louise lived at Arles. Her father's restaurant was not far from the great school, and not far away again was the mansion where Louise slept each night, and at times, half-holidays and such like, enjoyed the pleasure of her friends' company. The day following that on which she met M'selle Close and M'selle Blanc was a half-holiday, and as her father supplied her freely with cash, she had whispered to one or two companions of a fete, ah, très ravissant, where certain of her dearest friends could join her and eat chocolats and cakes to their hearts' delight. But Louise did not dare to lose this most precious half-holiday. She accordingly announced to her friends, Marcella and Berthe, that they must put off their time of ravissement until the next half-holiday, for behold! consider! she, Louise, had work of the most particular to do. It was urgent, it was immediate—it had to come at once, at once.
The girls, of course, had to submit, and Louise, dressing herself as gracefully as she could, appeared at the Cabinet de Beauté at the hour named.
She was received at once by the two ladies, was shown into a private room, and while one manicured her finger-nails, and the other made of her hair an arrangement the most perfect, she told her story. She said what she required. She also declared that when the deed was done, ah, riche, très riche would be the reward.
"Mon père, he has much d'argent," said Louise. "He will pay well. Now listen, M'selle Blanc and M'selle Close. You went as gouvernantes to la petite Comtesse."
"Ah, oui, oui," said the ladies, "and badly, horribly were we treated. It was the doing of l'enfant; there is no doubt she is a snake in the grass."
"I would say she was a green lizard on the sunny wall," said Louise.
"Ah, make me not to shudder, M'selle Grognan."
"Now, I want to tell you about la petite Comtesse," continued Louise. "She is the daughter, it is true, of the late Comte Henri St. Juste, and her grandfather is the Comte St. Juste. She has, therefore, a right to her title of la petite Comtesse, but behold, do you think she keeps to that which we desire? Ah, non, non, far from that. Would you suppose that la petite sold me this chapeau?" for Louise was wearing the grass-green chapeau on purpose.
"Non, non," exclaimed both ladies. "It is perfect, assuredly, but la petite, she does not sell—to sell is to belong to us. We sell, thy father, M'selle, he sells; but la petite she belongs to the nobility. I hate them, pour moi, still they exist."
"Now will you listen, M'selle Blanc," exclaimed Louise. "It is true, what I tell you—it is true what I tell you both. M'selle has a grand'père, and also la belle grand'mère employs her in her magasin—kept it is supposed by Madame Marcelle, but really it flourishes because of the rare taste of la petite Comtesse Margot. She goes there daily for two hours a day, and behold! the chapeaux they vanish; the robes they disappear; the dainty ribbons and sashes and gloves, they are not; the embroidered stockings they are not; the shoes they are not; and all because of the taste of la petite. Think you that the établissement would flourish without la petite? Well, now, M. le Comte St. Juste, he knows nothing of this, but I want you both to enlighten him. I have my reasons which I need not disclose; will you both, chères M'selles, dress as the youngest do—ah, so beautifully; make the variety of the toilette, the change that pleases, that enchants? Wear a chapeau noir, M'selle Blanc, garnished with roses la reine; and you, M'selle Close, wear le petit chapeau avec une plume noire et sans roses. Oh, la, la, you will both look but eighteen; then go straight to see M'sieur the Comte St. Juste, wearing the touch of rouge—only the mere touch—and that tone of darkness under the eyes which gives the expression so nouvelle et si jeune. You will know what to do. Do not allude to the fact that you came as gouvernantes alternate days to the little snake in the grass and the little green lizard basking in the sun. Speak to him as strangers. Have you got any friends whose names you could assume for the purpose?"
The ladies knew many of the noblesse. They could, ah, oui, certainement, choose the names.
"Ah, well, go, my good friends, and fascinate the ancient Comte. He will admire, he will adore. He is susceptible to the charms of beauty. When you have won his confidence he will talk of your chapeau, M'selle Blanc, and yours, M'selle Close; and then you must raise the hands in rapture, and talk and talk and talk, and when you have roused his enthusiasm, you must tell him that these things were chosen and sold to you by one très jeune and très belle. Excite his interest; tell him that there never was one with quite such taste as that jeune petite. He will offer to go with you to see that young marvel, and behold! you will take him. You will go in my car, and you will take him with you into the town and into the établissement; and he will see la petite Comtesse; he will know for himself what his granddaughter does. The little green lizard will shine no longer in the sun; the little green snake in the grass must from henceforth conceal herself; and I, see! I will reward you both."
"How much?" asked M'selle Blanc, who felt considerably afraid of M. le Comte.
"I will ask mon père; I will tell him all. What do you say to being robed from head to foot by la petite Comtesse in the établissement Marcelle? Think what a joy that will be! Such a perfect reward. Then listen again—I know mothers and elder sisters of M'selles in my school; they shall come to you—oh! in numbers, to have their youth renewed. Is not that enough?"
M'selle Close and M'selle Blanc thought that the terms were sufficient and arranged to go on the following morning to visit M. le Comte. Meanwhile M'selle was to send them les chapeaux ravissants, admirable, which they were to wear for the occasion. They must look truly jeunes demoiselles.
"Now then, I must go, but I will send the chapeaux, rest assured."
Louise departed, and M'selle Blanc and M'selle Close consulted together how they were to turn themselves into jeunes demoiselles. They had, it is true, many patrons, and after consulting for a short time together, they decided to adopt the names of two young ladies who had come to the Cabinet de Beauté to have their hands manicured, and who belonged to the noblesse.
These young ladies, they were assured, were absent from home at present. They might with safety take their names. They were the daughters of the Marquis Odile. They had only lately taken a house at Arles, where they lived with their father and mother, and were called the Marquise Clotilde and the Marquise Rose.
"Ah," exclaimed M'selle Blanc, "that name will suit my chapeau noir, garnished with roses la reine."
The Marquise Clotilde would look very sweet indeed in her très petit chapeau.
The chapeaux arrived, all in good time. The ladies arranged themselves in fear and trembling; saw that they could appear with perfect ease as les jeunes demoiselles; and went to bed that night with hearts beating high with excitement. Ah, but the revenge was good, and the adventure of the whole thing was exciting.
They scarcely slept that night for thinking of their triumph. Early the next morning, by the explicit directions of Louise, they attired themselves in dresses of pure white with little sashes of blue. The ravishing hats were perched on their heads, the slight touch of rouge was delicately applied to each faded cheek, and then large veils were put on to cover any possible defects.
They were naturally slight in figure. Sharp at ten in the morning, at the very hour when Louise told them it would be right for them to go, they started on their mission to the Château St. Juste. Louise had sent one of her father's cars for them. This was to wait to bring them back again.
Madame la Comtesse was always out at that hour. She was in reality occupied in the back premises of the établissement; for Madame Marcelle was little better than a figurehead. The old Comte was alone. He felt well and happy—the day was a mild one. He thought he would enjoy the outside air. He would even go in the direction of the peach garden.
Suddenly, as he was approaching it, he raised his delicate old hand to protect his sunken, dark eyes, and to watch in surprise an automobile which was coming quickly down the avenue. He wanted to fly; but a check string was applied, the chauffeur stopped à l'instant, and two pretty girls approached—the Marquises Odile, connections of his. Ah, yes, assuredly. They introduced themselves, they talked, they chatted.
One Marquise, the Marquise Clotilde, insisted on his taking her arm; the Marquise Rose walked at his other side. He forgot his peach garden in the pleasure of talking to them. He called them très douce et très belle. He had not the faintest suspicion that they were the withered and ugly gouvernantes whom he had turned away with scorn a little while ago.
"Ah, but I must call on your esteemed father, Marquise Clotilde. He is younger than I am, alas, but I will call, certainement; and for you, ma belle Rose, let me see if I can give you something as ravishing out of my garden as those roses which you wear in your chapeau."
"Did you ever see a chapeau more très belle?" said the Marquise Rose.
"It is of the most perfect," said the old Comte.
"There is a wondrous lady who sells these things," said Marquise Clotilde. "She sells them at an établissement kept by a certain Madame Marcelle. We buy our things there. We have reconstructed ourselves since we came to Arles. The young m'selle, si jeune et si belle, does better for us than any of the Parisian magasins."
"I can scarcely believe that," said le Comte.
"Will you not come with us, M. le Comte, and see for yourself? Our car waits your orders. The air is of the spring, reviving with its mildness. Get in, M'sieur, get in. We will take you in a flash to the établissement, and you will see la belle petite with the taste so superb. Afterwards we will go and visit mon père."
The old Comte felt in a mood for adventure. These demoiselles were very charming, and he would like himself to see la petite who had the taste so rare and simple.
Accordingly he went as far as the house, leaning now on the arm of the Marquise Rose, but holding the hand of the Marquise Clotilde. He desired his valet to clothe him in his coat of fur and to place at his feet a hot bottle. The automobile was closed by his desire. Les jeunes demoiselles nearly fainted with the heat, but their task would soon be over; their revenge would be complete and their reward would be in their hands.
They chattered all the way with the gay prattle of young birds. The very old Comte thought how delightful was youth; he was glad, very glad, to meet his own relations.
At last they stopped at the établissement. The old Comte got out, and the les Marquises accompanied him—all seemed going well, of the best. The assistants bowed; the shopwalkers were ready to take these distinguished strangers to whatever department they pleased.
The Comte felt his cheeks flush with eagerness. This was really a very gay adventure. He liked gay adventures; but at that moment there was standing, just behind the Marquises and the Comte, la petite Comtesse. She had gone herself to fetch a certain lace for a certain customer. One glance served to pierce the disguise of the ugly gouvernantes; one glance told to her horror-stricken eyes that mon grandpère le Comte was in the établissement.
Quickly, like a flash, she entered that part of the magasin which was kept for underclothing, and with which she had nothing to do. From there she got into the back premises, where she beheld la belle grand'mère.
"Oh, hide me, hide me," cried little Margot; "I will tell thee what has occurred. Those gouvernantes so ignorant are in the établissement with grandpère. They are powdered and rouged and wearing our chapeaux—they are pretending the youth. Ah, but if he knows, if he sees, it will break his heart."
"Fret not thyself, ma petite," said la belle grand'mère. "Stay quietly with me. Thou wilt be asked for of necessity, but I will say that thou hast mal à la tête."
"But non, grand'mère," cried little Margot, "behold, it is not mal à la tête; it is sorrow at the heart."
"Well, that suffices, mon enfant."
The Comte, his cheeks growing pinker, his eyes brighter, accompanied by those charming demoiselles, the young Marquises, asked everywhere for la petite, la petite, the lady who had the taste so ravishing; but although many were waiting for her, there was no sign of la petite.
A message came at last to say that she was indisposed for that one morning and could not appear.
The ladies felt a keen and unaccountable sense of disappointment. The old Comte knew that the adventure was over, but he would occupy himself by buying a brooch of the very finest sapphires for his little Margot.
The Ladies Odile stood behind him. It was just at that moment that two very beautiful, dark young girls, accompanied by a stately gentleman in middle life, entered the établissement. The girls were tall; they were really very young; they had a glow of health, not rouge on their cheeks. The eldest called herself Rose, the other was Clotilde. Suddenly the father of these fair young girls made a graceful plunge forward. It was rapid, and only a Frenchman could do it without awkwardness.
He seized the hand of M. le Comte.
"Ah, behold, behold, mon ami," he said, "what joy is here. I came to get some pretty trifles for my daughters, Rose and Clotilde; but I will present them first to thee, mon ami. I have heard wonderful stories of this établissement. We are anxious to see the little wonder, as she is called. Ah, we see her not! Clotilde, make thy curtsey to M. le Comte St. Juste; Rose, do thou likewise."
"But—but——" said the astonished and amazed old Comte. "But—but——" mimicked the father of Rose and Clotilde. "I am the Marquis Odile. Thy cousin and thy friend, mon ami."
"I am bewildered," said the poor old Comte. "All day Rose and Clotilde have been with me. They brought me here; I thought them charmantes; but I see them not. What does all this mean?"
The trembling, terrified ladies who kept the Cabinet de Beauté knew only too well what it all meant. The real Marquis and the real Marquises had appeared in the flesh. As fast as their trembling legs could carry them, they reached the door. They got into the automobile and drove to the Cabinet de Beauté.
"We have had a terrible escape," murmured M'selle Blanc. "Never, never will I undertake such work again," said M'selle Close.
Tremblingly they got off their hats and appeared in their usual dress.
The Marquis brought the Comte back to his château in his own automobile. The young Marquises Rose and Clotilde made him lie down, and petted him and talked to him as though they were his daughters.
When la pauvre grand'mère entered, an hour or so later, she found her beloved one calm and easy in his mind. It was only after M. le Marquis and his beautiful young daughters had gone that he told her of his very great adventure.
"It was the biggest of all my life," he said. "Two ladies, très belles and très jeunes, appeared and introduced themselves as mes cousines, les Marquises Rose et Clotilde. Ah, but they were charmantes. Then behold, they spoke to me of a wonder, a très petite wonder in the établissement of Madame Marcelle. They asked me to go with them to see her, and I went."
"Ah, but thou naughty one; thou adorable naughty one," said la Comtesse.
"But behold, listen," continued the old man. "I enjoyed myself; they were so gay, so young, so brilliant in the cheeks, so dainty in the chapeaux. Then I arrived. They took me in their own car; but I could not see that petite wonder, who seems to rule the établissement; and suddenly, behold, the real Marquis Odile appeared with his beautiful daughters, Rose and Clotilde. Ah, but it was an adventure; it was wonderful. Thinkest thou, Madame beloved, that the others were—were spirits? I looked to right, I looked to left, and nowhere could I see them after the Marquis appeared. Thinkest thou they were spirits, Madame la Comtesse?"
"They were wicked women," said Madame. "They thought to take thee in, but they failed."
"Ah, but indeed they were not wicked," said M. le Comte. "They looked young and elegant. How gently did the one who called herself Clotilde support my feeble steps; and how admirable were the manners of the one called Rose. I will amuse myself well this afternoon in telling the story of this queer adventure to la petite Comtesse."
"Please thyself, mon Alphonse; but now lie quietly and rest, while I prepare the bouillon which will nourish thee after those adventures, which only ought to happen to the young."
The entire story was repeated to Margot when she appeared on the scene; but the old man seemed now dull and drowsy and stupid. Perhaps he was too old for adventures—he could not say. As the evening advanced, he talked in a puzzled way of two Marquises called Rose, and two Marquises called Clotilde, and of a "little wonder" in a certain établissement. He was decidedly feverish, and Margot held his hand and soothed him as only she knew how.
"Oh the wicked, wicked women," sobbed la belle grand'mère, after the doctor had come and gone. "The wicked, wicked women, to injure mon Alphonse."
When Margot had a minute of time to attend to la belle grand'mère, she told her that the false Marquises were only her hideous old gouvernantes dressed up to look young, and that she herself meant to give them a piece of her mind.
"I mean to spend the entire night with grandpère," she said. "Weep not, ma belle grand'mère. He got a shock, and only I can keep him from being puzzled by the two names—the two names twice over. I will go to him, ma belle grand'mère."
"Yes, go, my blessed child," said the little Madame; and she felt at that moment that even the dot for Margot, and her établissement, were as nothing compared to mon Alphonse—mon Alphonse the adorable, the love of her life.