twinkled.

"But this will not fit you," Madame Valière gasped.

"It is a little error, I know," replied Madame Dépine.

"But it is a great error," cried Madame Valière, aghast. And her angry
gaze transfixed the _coiffeur_.

"It is not his fault--I ought not to have let him measure you."

"Ha! Did I not tell you so?" Triumph softened her anger. "He has mixed
up the two measurements!"

"Yes. I suspected as much when I went in to inquire the other day; but
I was afraid to tell you, lest it shouldn't even fit _you_."

"Fit _me_!" breathed Madame Valière.

"But whom else?" replied Madame Dépine, impatiently, as she whipped
off the "Princess's" wig. "If only it fits you, one can pardon him.
Let us see. Stand still, _ma chère_," and with shaking hands she
seized the grey wig.

"But--but--" The "Princess" was gasping, coughing, her ridiculous
scalp bare.

"But stand still, then! What is the matter? Are you a little infant?
Ah! that is better. Look at yourself, then, in the mirror. But it is
perfect!" "A true Princess," she muttered beatifically to herself.