"Ah, how she will show up the fruit-vendor's daughter!"

As the "Princess" gazed at the majestic figure in the mirror, crowned
with the dignity of age, two great tears trickled down her pendulous
cheeks.

"I shall be able to go to the wedding," she murmured chokingly.

"The wedding!" Madame Dépine opened her eyes. "What wedding?"

"My nephew's, of course!"

"Your nephew is marrying? I congratulate you. But why did you not tell
me?"

"I did mention it. That day I had a letter!"

"Ah! I seem to remember. I had not thought of it." Then briskly:
"Well, that makes all for the best again. Ah! I was right not to scold
_monsieur le coiffeur_ too much, was I not?"

"You are very good to be so patient," said Madame Valière, with a sob
in her voice.

Madame Dépine shot her a dignified glance. "We will discuss our
affairs at home. Here it only remains to say whether you are satisfied
with the fit."

Madame Valière patted the wig, as much in approbation as in
adjustment. "But it fits me to a miracle!"