No garment more attractive can be imagined than the _déshabillé galant_: a teagown of hers which was ruched from the neck round to the short train, and displayed a frilled front of lace or muslin tied with ribbons, and daintily flounced round the hem. Silks, satins, and brocades were used to make these, but shot silk enjoyed supreme patronage; and the favourite dressmaker, Madame Bertin, was a heroine of vast importance, a genius of diplomatic habits, who played most successfully upon the fancies of her royal patron, bringing her every day some new device in paniers or sumptuous train which it was impossible to resist. Marie Antoinette adored feathers, and the panache flourished under her favour, and boldly survived her mother's reprimand. "You have sent me the picture of an actress, not of a Queen," she wrote, upon receiving a picture of her daughter in a prodigious head-dress of feathers and jewels. Jewels, it is well known, were amongst Marie Antoinette's weaknesses. Did not they inspire that romance of the Queen's necklace which has pursued us for many years in various works of fiction and drama, and is still regarded as vitally interesting? [Illustration: A COIFFURE.] [Illustration: A VARIETY OF HEAD-DRESSES ADOPTED IN THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY.] But let me return to England, and repeat that French fashions were treated with servility, if not with complete success, for somehow the English women were too ponderously exact in their method of adjustment to toy triumphantly with the many accessories of lace, and ribbon, and velvet, and buckles, and ruchings which were essentially the distinguishing features of these styles. And, also, the small feet of the French women encouraged much attention to dainty shoes, with coloured heels and embroidered toes, and to these the national deficiencies or superfluities of the English women were rather a drawback. However, they followed the French fashions at a distance, and bestowed most earnest attention upon hair-dressing, which assumed formidable proportions during this period, and rose higher and ever higher, to be topped by ornaments as incongruous, as hideous. The skilful hair-dresser who could "build" a head was at a premium; the art of hair-dressing being reckoned as one of the most important, and as rare as difficult. No lady's maid, however clever, was entrusted with this difficult task, and very complicated was the work of constructing the popular coiffure, which was piled half a yard high, and decked with pads, and false hair, and curls so stuck down and plastered with pomades that they might hold for weeks without being pulled down. So monumental were these erections that collapsible frames had to be made, so that ladies could pass through doors and get into their sedan-chairs. Windmills and ships in full sail, fruit and balls were added to the pile, and ostrich plumes nodded boldly amongst a profusion of ribbons and flowers.