"A rather dangerous costume!" returned Maurice, laughing.
"At all events it would be original; and, as originality is sure to produce an effect, the saucy little _parvenue_ might afford to follow my advice, even though it came from an enemy."
Maurice could not help exclaiming with a comical intonation,--for there was something irresistibly ludicrous in the puny fierceness of the dressed doll,--"An enemy!"
"Oh, there is no concealment about it!" exclaimed Madame de Fleury with the air of a Liliputian belligerent. "It is open warfare; we are at swords' points, and all the world knows our animosity. And Mrs. Gilmer has the impertinence to pretend that our _styles_ are quite similar, and that the same modes become us. She even declares that such has been Mademoiselle Melanie's verdict, and from the judgment of Mademoiselle Melanie nobody dares to appeal."
"This Mademoiselle Melanie is a Parisian, I presume?" asked Maurice, more because it seemed polite to say something, than from any interest in the answer to his question.
"Could she be anything else?" replied Madame de Fleury, with enthusiasm. "Could a being gifted with such wondrous taste have been born out of Paris? She is a _protegée_ of Vignon's; and, when I was exiled, Mademoiselle Melanie came to America with me. She instantly became known. There is a Mr. Hilson here, to whom she probably brought letters, for he has taken the deepest interest in trumpeting her fame. She has created a perfect furor."
"Hilson?" repeated Maurice, musingly. "A gentleman of that name visited Brittany before I left. I wonder if it can be the same person."
"Very likely, for he has been abroad. I have heard him mention Brittany. Well, this Mr. Hilson was so infatuated with--hush! That is a ring!"
While Madame de Fleury listened in breathless expectation, Lurline opened the door and announced, "The dress of madame has arrived!"
"Ah! at last! at last! What happiness! I am saved, when I had almost given up all hope! Monsieur de Gramont, you will excuse me! _Au revoir!_"
Before Maurice could utter his congratulations upon the advent of the dress, she had glided out of the room.
The tangled web Count Tristan had woven for others began to fold its meshes around himself, and to torture him with the dread that he might be caught in his own snare. From the moment Maurice arrived in Washington,--an event the count had not anticipated,--his covert use of the authority entrusted to him was menaced with discovery. To a frank, straightforward character, the very natural alternative would have suggested itself of explaining, and, as far possible, justifying the step just taken; but to a mind so full of guile, so wedded to wily schemes as the count's, a simple, upright course would never have occurred. The fear of exposure threw him into a state of nervous irritability which allowed no rest, and he was compelled to pay the price of deception by plunging deeper into her labyrinths, though every step rendered extrication from the briery mazes more difficult.