Part 2 (1/2)

On the Day of the Dead Madame Depine emerged into importance, taking her friend with her to the Cemetery Montparna.s.se to see the gla.s.s flowers blooming immortally over the graves of her husband and children. Madame Depine paid the omnibus for both (inside places), and felt, for once, superior to the poor ”Princess,” who had never known the realities of love and death.

VII

Two months pa.s.sed. Another of Madame Valiere's teeth fell out. Madame Depine's cheeks grew more pendulous. But their brown wigs remained as fadeless as the cemetery flowers.

One day they pa.s.sed the hairdresser's shop together. It was indeed next to the tobacconist's, so not easy to avoid, whenever one wanted a stamp or a postcard. In the window, amid pendent plaits of divers hues, bloomed two wax busts of females--the one young and coquettish and golden-haired, the other aristocratic in a distinguished grey wig.

Both wore diamond rosettes in their hair and ropes of pearls round their necks. The old ladies' eyes met, then turned away.

”If one demanded the price!” said Madame Depine (who had already done so twice).

”It is an idea!” agreed Madame Valiere.

”The day will come when one's nieces will be married.”

”But scarcely when New Year's Day shall cease to be,” the ”Princess”

sighed.

”Still, one might win in the lottery!”

”Ah! true. Let us enter, then.”

”One will be enough. You go.” Madame Depine rather dreaded the _coiffeur_, whom intercourse with jocose students had made severe.

But Madame Valiere shrank back shyly. ”No, let us both go.” She added, with a smile to cover her timidity, ”Two heads are better than one.”

”You are right. He will name a lower price in the hope of two orders.”

And, pus.h.i.+ng the ”Princess” before her like a turret of defence, Madame Depine wheeled her into the ladies' department.

The _coiffeur_, who was was.h.i.+ng the head of an American girl, looked up ungraciously. As he perceived the outer circ.u.mference of Madame Depine projecting on either side of her turret, he emitted a glacial ”_Bon jour, mesdames._”

”Those grey wigs--” faltered Madame Valiere

”I have already told your friend.” He rubbed the American head viciously.

Madame Depine coloured. ”But--but we are two. Is there no reduction on taking a quant.i.ty?”

”And why then? A wig is a wig. Twice a hundred francs are two hundred francs.”

”One hundred francs for a wig!” said Madame Valiere, paling. ”I did not pay that for the one I wear.”

”I well believe it, madame. A grey wig is not a brown wig.”

”But you just said a wig is a wig.”

The _coiffeur_ gave angry rubs at the head, in time with his explosive phrases. ”You want real hair, I presume--and to your measure--and to look natural--and _convenable_!” (Both old ladies shuddered at the word.) ”Of course, if you want it merely for private theatricals--”