<h2><span>CHAPTER VIII.</span> <span class="smaller">BROWN HATS AND FANS.</span></h2>
<p>It is one of the astonishing and also one of the blessed things of life
that children of the age of Marguerite St. Juste quickly accommodate
themselves to circumstances. She was naturally a very brave little
girl, and she had a heart warmer than most, but there was a quiet
determination about her, that same determination which had won her way
into all the hearts of the good folks at Desmondstown, and this she
brought now to her aid.</p>
<p>Her French grandpère was very nice, and she set to work to learn French
as quickly as she could, in order to be able to converse with him not
only in the English tongue but also in his own. The young new wife said
that <i>la petite</i> Comtesse was altogether of the most ravishing. The
old Comte said nothing at all, but he looked at <i>la petite</i> out of his
twinkling black eyes and tried hard to see her father in that bonny
little brown face—in those steadfast, deep, very dark eyes and in
those smiling coral lips, but although little Margot had the dark eyes
of her<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</SPAN></span> father, very dark and very beautiful, she had what was better
for herself, the soul of her mother. It was because of that soul that
Kathleen Desmond had been so loved and because further she had happened
to impart that soul to her little child Margot, who was in consequence
more Irish than French.</p>
<p>Nevertheless she must remain for three months with Madame la Comtesse
and with Monsieur le Comte, her grandpère.</p>
<p>There was one relief, however, for her. She had little or no affection
for her French relations, but she did most truly adore the idea of
going to school at Arles and of learning something about French girls
in general.</p>
<p>Madame la Comtesse had most solemnly promised dear Uncle Jacko to
send her to school and Marguerite waited impatiently for the day and
hour when she might commence her studies. The day and hour, however,
seemed to be a long way off. Each day as it came she was expected to
devote all her time to her grandpère and to make the old man laugh by
her funny attempts at the French language. Still there was no talk of
school. There was, however, a vast amount of talk of dress.</p>
<p>"<i>Mon</i> grandpère" laughed until he could hardly stop laughing when
he saw Margot in her pretty French costumes. He chuckled when she
attempted<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</SPAN></span> to imitate his French and Madame kept on saying, "<i>Fi donc,
fi donc!</i> Ah! but thou mightst be a child of three and thirty to hear
thee talk. See, behold! How thou dost make thy grandpère laugh. Thou
dost do him much good. <i>Fi donc, petite</i> Comtesse, thou must not make
him laugh till he expires. Has he not already the liver too pronounced?
We must take care of him, <i>ma petite</i>. He wishes for thy company and
I—behold I have my château. <i>Tiens!</i> it comforts me not a little."</p>
<p>Margot gazed with some amazement at her young grandmother.</p>
<p>"Thou hast made a promise, <i>ma</i> grand'mère," she exclaimed. "The days
fly and you do not fulfil it—you do not carry it out. See, behold,
Madame, it is of the most religious. You said it with those lips to the
holiest man in the world. Behold, Madame, there will come a curse on
thee if thou dost not carry it out."</p>
<p>"<i>Non, non, non</i>," cried Madame, in great distress of mind. "Speak not
so cruelly, <i>ma petite</i> Comtesse. See, <i>mon enfant</i>, I love thee. Thou
shalt have another chapeau."</p>
<p>"I don't want another chapeau," said Margot. "I'd like to go to school,
where the really young girls—not the old young girls—live. Thou didst
promise, Comtesse. Thou must keep thy word." </p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>"But thou dost give pleasure to the old man, thy grandpère. Think of
that, <i>ma petite</i>."</p>
<p>"I will give him greater pleasure when I go to school," said Margot. "I
will bring him back day by day stories—ah, of the funniest. He will
laugh. Thou wilt see, Comtesse, how he will enjoy himself."</p>
<p>"<i>Ma petite</i>, thou hast a wise head," said the Comtesse. "Thou shalt
have thy way. There is a school for the trimming of hats and for the
perfect education in the French tongue, by one Thérèse Marcelle. I will
take thee to her to-morrow morning."</p>
<p>"But I don't want to learn to trim hats," said Margot.</p>
<p>"Ah, but it is a rare accomplishment, little one. Thou will learn it
and <i>peut-être</i> the piano also, and <i>peut-être</i> the French tongue in
all its perfection."</p>
<p>"And are the girls at Thérèse Marcelle's old young, or only young?"
enquired Margot.</p>
<p>"Ah, <i>ma petite bébé</i>, they are one and all of the youngest and the
gayest. See, I will take thee to-morrow. I am the last woman in the
world to break my word."</p>
<p>Margot skipped away in her light and graceful manner and the next
morning she and the Comtesse St. Juste drove into Arles in one of the
very newest and best motor-cars of the time. They stopped <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</SPAN></span>before a
large <i>magasin</i>, which looked to little Margot far more like a gorgeous
shop than a school. There were chapeaux innumerable displayed in
certain windows, there were all sorts of robes—robes of every sort and
description also to be seen.</p>
<p>Madame entered smiling, holding the little hand of <i>la petite</i>. She was
greeted by smiles from every one in the shop. In fact, her entrance
seemed to bring a ray of sunshine with it. All the young women who were
walking about and attending to different customers were trying to catch
her eye in order to secure one of her much treasured smiles.</p>
<p>Madame la Comtesse, however, knew her own mind and, motioning to Margot
to seat herself, entered into conversation of a very earnest and at
the same time spirited nature with a young woman who sat behind a sort
of raised counter. Margot was left to look around her. She was much,
indeed greatly, puzzled by what she saw. What could have happened—what
a very queer sort of school this was!</p>
<p>Presently a number of ladies came in and Margot forgot her own
immediate interests in the excitement of watching them. They did not
look like English ladies nor did they look like French. One of them
was very large and very fat and red. She had a square figure planted
on large square feet and a firm jaw indicating a tenacity of purpose,
which<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</SPAN></span> the ill-natured might call pig-headedness. A young and very
pretty French girl came up and spoke to her.</p>
<p>She said that she required a chapeau, condemning as she spoke the
entire style of Madame Marcelle's goods.</p>
<p>"There is only one thing here that would suit me," she said. "See,
behold!" she pointed to a very small child's hat in a corner. It was
trimmed with small bunches of marguerites and violets. Her friend
expostulated with her but she did not take the least notice.</p>
<p>"<i>J'aime beaucoup le chapeau là</i>," she said, pointing to the one of her
choice.</p>
<p>"Ah," exclaimed the young French shop-girl. "<i>Le chapeau pour la bébé.</i>
It is nice, is it not? But now, we must find something Parisian for
Madame herself."</p>
<p>Before Margot could quite get to the end of this exciting story and
find out which hat the red-faced, fat woman required, Madame la
Comtesse came to her side.</p>
<p>"I have settled for thee, <i>ma petite</i>," she said. "Thou wilt come here
each morning and take lessons in the making of chapeaux, then, after
that is over, thou shalt have an hour in which to learn the French
tongue and half an hour to do the different<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</SPAN></span> harmonies on the piano.
Then thou wilt return to my Alphonse. Thou wilt be a very happy <i>chère
petite</i>. See, I leave thee now under the care of Madame Marcelle."</p>
<p>Margot did not know whether to laugh or cry. The Comtesse whisked
out of the shop amidst more nods and smiles and Madame came and took
Margot's little hand.</p>
<p>"Behold," she said, "thou art of the <i>ancienne noblesse</i>. Now thou wilt
learn. I myself will instruct thee. Dost thou see that woman with the
red face?"</p>
<p>"Oh, yes," said Margot, "she is very ugly."</p>
<p>"She wants to find a hat," said Madame, "which would only suit a
<i>bébé</i>. Now then, come. You and I we will go to her and show her what
is right. Thou must flatter her into buying a Parisian chapeau. She
would look absurd with her own ideas."</p>
<p>"I thought this—this was a school," said poor little Margot, raising
her brown eyes and fixing them on Madame Marcelle.</p>
<p>"So it is a school, <i>ma petite</i> Comtesse, and of the most wonderful,
the most <i>extraordinaire</i>. Ah, Madame la Comtesse is right to have you
taught. A little knowledge goes a long way when it is acquired as I
will teach it. Now, then, stand aside and listen.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</SPAN></span> You will soon learn.
I manage in this school of all schools the best. Come! Hold my hand."</p>
<p>She brought the pretty child forward and stood right in front of the
red-faced lady.</p>
<p>"You want a chapeau, Madame. Ah, <i>c'est drôle, ne c'est pas?</i> That is
for <i>la bébé</i>." She pointed with scorn at the tiny hat. "Here is one
for you. See, I am in the despair to oblige you, but behold I have the
very thing."</p>
<p>Madame produced a hat from off its stand, covered with flowers,
butterflies and small feathers of different colours.</p>
<p>"Behold for yourself, Madame! It came from Paris yesterday."</p>
<p>"It is too showy. I like the little hat best," said Madame of the red
face.</p>
<p>"Let me speak," suddenly interrupted little Margot. "Your face behold!
it is red and must be softened. You shall wear brown. See, I picture it
in my eye," continued Margot, speaking as though she had been acting
shop-woman all her days. "A brown hat <i>très doux</i> and one long feather
to match. Have you such a hat, Madame?" exclaimed little Margot.</p>
<p>"It is wonderful the taste of the Comtesse," cried Madame. "She sees at
once what will suit you, <i>chère Madame</i>." </p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>"The Comtesse! That little girl a Comtesse!" cried the astonished
red-faced American lady.</p>
<p>"Ah, <i>oui</i>, Madame. She is the young Comtesse St. Juste and her taste
it is of the most exquisite. Paris itself cannot touch her."</p>
<p>"Why does she come here?" asked the American. "But get me the brown hat
with the brown feather. She looks like a child who has pretty taste."</p>
<p>Little Margot stood very silent. She was not going to laugh. Having
given her idea she stuck to it. Her grave and lovely eyes were fixed on
the American's face. The brown hat was produced in a twinkling. It was
tried on. It was pronounced perfect.</p>
<p>"I will have a fan to match," said the American.</p>
<p>"<i>Ah, oui, c'est bon</i>," said little Margot. "I will myself choose it
for you, Madame."</p>
<p>She chose a fan made of brown feathers with a long tortoise-shell
handle.</p>
<p>"Here, behold!" said little Margot.</p>
<p>Immediately the other American ladies buzzed round the brown hat
and round the brown fan, and little Margot found herself acting as
shopwoman and enjoying herself immensely.</p>
<p>"And now the price, Mademoiselle la Comtesse,"<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</SPAN></span> said the red-faced
American, when all the ladies had been provided with hats and fans.</p>
<p>"I know not," said Margot. "Madame, you will tell the price. For me, I
am <i>fatiguée</i>." She marched away, hearing however behind her a perfect
buzz of remonstrance.</p>
<p>The prices were monstrous—they were absurd. They were beyond even
thinking about.</p>
<p>Madame stood calmly by, holding a pile of hats with brown feathers in
her hand.</p>
<p>"It is the will of <i>la petite</i> Comtesse," she remarked, and then again
she stood silent.</p>
<p>By-and-bye the hustle grew so great, the noise so animated, that
Margot wondered how the whole thing would end and when these horrid,
disagreeable women would leave the shop. But after storm there came
peace. The brown hats and the brown fans hastily arranged themselves,
the money was paid, one hundred and fifty francs for each chapeau, and
one hundred and thirty francs for each fan.</p>
<p>Madame danced up to Margot and kissed her several times.</p>
<p>"We have made—we have made—oh, so much for your <i>dot</i>, little one,"
she said. "You are the very best saleswoman I ever knew. What will our
sweet Madame la Comtesse say when we tell her!<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</SPAN></span> Six chapeaux at 150
francs apiece, six fans at 130 francs apiece! Ah, but it is marvellous!
You have the natural gift, little one. Come with me now, into the
apartment, where we sell the robes of all sorts and colours. You will
make the fortune of this place, little Comtesse."</p>
<p>"I will not go with you, Madame," cried little Margot. "This is not a
school—it is a shop. I want to learn my French. I demand that I learn
it. I will not again give counsel about hats for ugly women."</p>
<p>"You will learn the tongue of the French so ravishing in those
apartments set aside for <i>les robes</i>," cried Madame. "Come, my little
Comtesse, you are a genius and must not throw away your gift."</p>
<p>"I tell you I am <i>fatiguée</i>," cried Margot. "I will not enter a shop;
I will go to school. It is a vow taken. Where is my grand'mère? See, I
will do nothing more in your horrid shop."</p>
<p>"<i>Ah, ma pauvre petite</i>," cried the good-natured Madame. "<i>La petite</i>,
she is tired out and no wonder. Ah, <i>ma chérie</i> is it not for your own
<i>dot</i>? Now, come, listen. There is one playing in the other room. He
is playing those delicious songs of <i>Wagnère</i>. Courage, <i>mon enfant</i>.
You have done well and are tired. Ah, look at that robe in exquisite
satin, coloured as the oyster, and that single row of<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</SPAN></span> pearls round
the neck and that magnificent diamond star crowning the summit of <i>le
chevelure</i>! See the air it lends. Will you not help me to sell that
costume so ravishing, my little Comtesse?"</p>
<p>"<i>Non, non</i>, I hate it all!" said Margot. "I will listen to the
music of <i>Wagnère</i> until my French mistress comes and then I will
return to M'sieur le Comte St. Juste, <i>mon</i> grandpère. Ah, but I am
miserable—miserable in a shop. What would The Desmond say if he saw
his pushkeen in a shop?"</p>
<p>Madame saw that she had gone as far as she could with the little
Comtesse. She placed her where she could listen to the beautiful music
which delighted the child and soothed her troubled heart, and then a
young Frenchman entered the <i>appartement</i>, and with his knees and heels
tightly pressed together made a very low bow to the little Comtesse St.
Juste. He began talking to her in a lively manner in the French tongue,
correcting her mistakes and teaching her how to use the French language
properly.</p>
<p>Margot was a wonderfully quick little pupil, but she sprang up with
delight when she saw the Comtesse enter.</p>
<p>The Comtesse had an earnest conversation with Madame and approached
Margot, her black eyes full of smiles and her cheeks very bright. </p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>"Ah, but thou art of the very best, <i>mon enfant</i>," she cried, and she
took the little Comtesse in her arms and kissed her before everyone in
the shop.</p>
<p>The child and the woman got into the motor-car and drove off as quickly
as possible in the direction of the château.</p>
<p>"Thou must never do that again, grand'mère," cried Margot.</p>
<p>"Do what, <i>ma petite</i>, my cabbage, my pigeon?"</p>
<p>"That was a shop, not a school. I desire to go to a school," said
Margot. "I will tell M'sieur le Comte, my French grandpère."</p>
<p>"Thou wilt not, thou couldst not be so cruel," exclaimed her French
grandmother.</p>
<p>"Ah, but I could and I would. I will not learn in a shop."</p>
<p>"Then, however am I to get thee thy <i>dot</i>, <i>ma petite</i>?" cried
the Comtesse, "and thou hast a gift in that way—a gift the most
marvellous. Didst thou not sell six brown hats and six brown fans
to-day? Thou hast the true taste running in thy veins, <i>ma petite</i>."</p>
<p>"But you don't want me to sell hats," said Margot.</p>
<p>"Yes, I do, I do. Thou hast the gift. Madame confirms it. Tell not thy
grandpère or he will rage—he would rage in the French fashion and
that<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</SPAN></span> might cause <i>la mort</i>. Ah, <i>ma petite</i>, thou wilt not injure thy
<i>pauvre</i> grandpère."</p>
<p>"But I do not understand," cried little Margot.</p>
<p>"I will put it clear to thee if thou wilt not tell thy grandpère."</p>
<p>"Perhaps I will not tell," said Margot.</p>
<p>"Thou must not tell, <i>ma petite</i>. The hats and fans thou didst sell
were mine and the money goes towards thy <i>dot</i>. Go to my most beautiful
<i>établissement</i> each day for one hour, for thou hast most truly the
gift of selling, and the title of the little Comtesse goes far. Then
I will call for thee and take thee to a school, a school for the
daughters of the <i>ancienne noblesse</i>. Wilt thou do this for thy <i>pauvre
belle</i> grand-mère and wilt thou keep it dark—very dark from thy
grandpère?"</p>
<p>"But why—why must he not know?" asked little Margot.</p>
<p>"Because, <i>ma petite</i>, when I met that most noble and ancient
gentleman, the château was going to ruin. He wanted the comfort but he
had not <i>l'argent</i>. I told him I had <i>le dot</i> and he married me. He
thinks I have given up the <i>établissement</i> where the chapeaux and the
robes are, but how could I give them up, <i>ma petite</i> Comtesse, when we
would have nothing to live on otherwise? See, thou hast the gift and
thou canst help me; one hour a day<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</SPAN></span> amongst my chapeaux, one hour a day
for <i>la petite</i> Comtesse to show her taste, and then I take thee to the
very best school in Arles."</p>
<p>"Will you really, Comtesse?" asked Margot.</p>
<p>"I will, really, my most beautiful, my most lovely <i>bébé</i>. Do not
embarrass thyself. All will be well. It is a bargain between us. No
word to the Comte, thy grandpère! He is too feeble and too proud. He
has the pride of all the St. Justes in his veins, but he lives in
comfort out of my <i>établissement</i>. Wilt thou not help me for one hour
or two hours a day, little Comtesse?"</p>
<p>"Yes, if you keep your word about the school," said Margot. "I will not
otherwise, indeed I will not."</p>
<p>"No fear, <i>ma petite</i>, my word is my bond."</p>
<p>"But," said Margot, "when I get back now, what am I to say to
grandpère? How can I talk to him about the shop which is thy shop?"</p>
<p>"Tell him thou didst go into an <i>établissement</i> with me, thy
grand'mère, and describe to him the American lady with the stout figure
and the red face. Tell him what she wanted and what thou didst suggest.
Ah, but he will laugh—he will roar."</p>
<p>"I like Ireland better than France," said Margot solemnly, "but I
will do what thou dost wish on this one occasion, grand'mère, for
otherwise I could<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</SPAN></span> not live. To-morrow I will attend thy horrible shop
for one hour and one hour only, and then I will go to the school where
the young-young girls are and where I can be taught. See, thou hast
promised."</p>
<p>"I have promised and I will fulfil," said her grand'mère. "The school
belongs to my friend, M'selle la Princesse de Fleury. Thou dost not
know how much thou wilt learn there. It is <i>chic</i> of the <i>chic</i>. Oh,
la! la! thou wilt enjoy thyself at the Princesse de Fleury's school."</p>
<p>So little Margot entered the old château fairly satisfied. To be taught
by a Princess seemed a very high honour indeed, and she determined to
lose no time in picking up knowledge to delight Uncle Jacko and dear,
dear grand-dad, The Desmond.</p>
<hr />
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</SPAN></span></p>
<div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />