Chapter 7 - Page 2

time to pray. Her work, now that she had nothing to expect from
the milliner, could not be laid aside for a moment, though her soul did
pour out its longings as she sat plying her needle.

Fortunately, Madame de la Rocheaimard was easy and tranquil the
whole of the last morning. Although nearly exhausted by her toil and the
want of food, for Adrienne had eaten her last morsel, half a roll, at
breakfast, she continued to toil; but the work was nearly done, and the
dear girl's needle fairly flew. Of a sudden she dropped me in her lap and
burst into a flood of tears. Her sobs were hysterical, and I felt afraid she
would faint. A glass of water, however, restored her, and then this
outpouring of an exhausted nature was suppressed. I was completed!
At that instant, if not the richest, I was probably the neatest and most
tasteful handkerchief in Paris. At this critical moment, Desiree, the
commissionaire, entered the room.

>From the moment that Adrienne had purchased me, this artful woman
had never lost sight of the intended victim. By means of an occasional
bribe to little Nathalie, she ascertained the precise progress of the work,
and learning that I should probably be ready for sale that very morning,
under the pretence of hiring the apartment, she was shown into my
important presence. A brief apology explained all, and Adrienne civilly
showed her little rooms.

"When does your lease end, mademoiselle?" demanded Desiree,
carelessly.

"Next week, madame. I intend to remove to the country with my
grandmother the beginning of the week."

"You will do very right; no one that has the means should stay in Paris
after June. Dieu! What a beautiful handkerchief! Surely--surely--this is
not your work, mademoiselle?"

Adrienne simply answered in the affirmative, and then the
commissionaire's admiration was redoubled. Glancing her eye round the
room, as if to ascertain the probabilities, the woman inquired if the
handkerchief was ordered. Adrienne blushed, but shaking off the
transient feeling of shame, she stated that it was for sale.

"I know a lady who would buy this--a marchande de mode, a friend of
mine, who gives the highest prices that are ever paid for such articles--
for to tell you the truth certain Russian princesses employ her in all these
little matters. Have you thought of your price, mademoiselle?"

Adrienne's bloom had actually returned, with this unexpected gleam of
hope, for the affair of disposing of me had always appeared awful in her
imagination. She owned the truth frankly, and said that she had not
made herself acquainted with the prices of such things, except as she
had understood what affluent ladies paid for them.