"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."
"But thou dost give pleasure to the old man, thy grandpère. Think of
that, _ma petite_."
"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."
"_Ma petite_, 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."
"But I don't want to learn to trim hats," said Margot.
"Ah, but it is a rare accomplishment, little one. Thou will learn it
and _peut-être_ the piano also, and _peut-être_ the French tongue in
all its perfection."
"And are the girls at Thérèse Marcelle's old young, or only young?"
enquired Margot.
"Ah, _ma petite bébé_, 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."
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 before a
large _magasin_, 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.
Madame entered smiling, holding the little hand of _la petite_. 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.
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!
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 the ill-natured might call pig-headedness. A young and very
pretty French girl came up and spoke to her.
She said that she required a chapeau, condemning as she spoke the
entire style of Madame Marcelle's goods.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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