Part 31 (2/2)
THE following day Mere Rafut arrived. Bijou had expected to have her for a week, and was very much disappointed when the old woman told her that she could only give her five days, as the theatre opened again on the first of September, and she would have to be there at her post as dresser.
Jeanne, therefore, proposed to help with the work, and Bijou accepted her offer.
”That's a capital idea!” she said; ”if we are both together we shall not be dull! we can talk to each other without troubling about Mere Rafut.”
Accordingly, every day, whilst the marchioness and Madame de Rueille were doing what Jean de Blaye called ”a visiting tour,” the two young girls installed themselves in Bijou's boudoir, which was converted into a sewing-room, and were soon busy with their cutting out and sewing, whilst chattering together, too intent on their conversation to pay much attention to the old sewing-woman.
”Are you going to the race-ball?” Bijou asked her friend.
”Yes,” said Jeanne; ”it seems that as I am now engaged it is not quite the thing; but I am going all the same, as Franz wants to see me arrayed in my ball-dress, and he wants to waltz with me, too; he waltzes very well, you know.”
”Ah! and yet he looks so austere? Tell me, don't you mind in the least marrying a Protestant?”
”Not in the least! without being bigoted, I am a thorough Catholic, and he is a devoted Protestant, but not bigoted either. We shall each of us keep to our own religion, for we have no wish whatever to change; but neither of us has any idea of trying to convert the other.”
Bijou did not speak, and Jeanne continued:
”I am not at all sorry that I am going to have a husband who is a Protestant, and I will confess that, for certain things, I feel more satisfied that it should be so. It's quite true, what you were saying yesterday--Protestants have certain ideas about the family, and about constancy; in fact, they have stricter principles about such things than Catholics.”
”Yes; tell me, though, what dress are you going to wear for the race ball?”
”I don't know yet! I haven't one for it!”
”Why, how's that? what about the white one with the little bunches of flowers all over it?”
”Papa does not think it is nice enough; the race ball is to be at the Tourvilles, you know, this year; and it will all be very grand!”
”Oh, yes!”
”We do not know them at all; it will be the first time of our going to Tourville, and if I were to be dressed anyhow, it would not be very nice for your grandmamma, who got us invited; and so papa told me to have a dress made, and he gave me two pounds.”
”What are you going to have made?”
”I don't know at all; advise me, will you?”
For the last minute or two Bijou had seemed to be turning something over in her mind.
”If you like,” she said at last, ”we might be dressed in the same way, you and I; that would be awfully nice!”
”What is your dress?”
”My dress does not exist yet; it is a thing of the future! It will be pink, of course--pink crepe--quite simple--straight skirts, cut like a ballet-dancer's skirts, so that there will be no hem to make them heavy, three skirts, one over the other, all of the same length, of course--three, that makes it cloudy-looking; more than that smothers you up; and it will fall in large, round _G.o.dets_. Then there will be a little gathered bodice, very simple; little puffed sleeves, with a lot of ribbon bows and ends hanging, and then ribbon round the waist, with two long bows and long ends--ribbon as wide as your hand, not any wider.'
”It will be pretty.”
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