Frightened and dazed, Mme. Derline stood in a corner and watched an opportunity to seize a saleswoman on the fly. She even thought of giving up the game. Never, certainly, should she dare to address directly that terrible M. Arthur, who had just given her a rapid glance in which she believed to have read, "Who is she? She isn't properly dressed! She doesn't go to a fashionable dress-maker!" At last Mme. Derline succeeded in getting hold of a disengaged saleswoman, and there was the same slightly disdainful glance--a glance which was accompanied by the phrase: "Madame is not a regular customer of the house?" "No, I am not a customer--" "And you wish?" "A dress, a ball-dress--and I want the dress for next Thursday evening--" "Thursday next!" "Yes, Thursday next." "Oh! madame, it is not to be thought of. Even for a customer of the house it would be impossible." "But I wished it so much--" "Go and see M. Arthur. He alone can--" "And where is M. Arthur?" "In his office. He has just gone into his office. Over there, madame, opposite." Mme. Derline, through a half-open door, saw a sombre and severe but luxurious room--an ambassador's office. On the walls the great European powers were represented by photographs--the Empress Eugenie, the Princess of Wales, a grand-duchess of Russia, and an archduchess of Austria. M. Arthur was there taking a few moments' rest, seated in a large arm-chair, with an air of lassitude and exhaustion, and with a newspaper spread out over his knees. He arose on seeing Mme. Derline enter. In a trembling voice she repeated her wish. "Oh, madame, a ball-dress--a beautiful ball-dress--for Thursday! I couldn't make such a promise--I couldn't keep it. There are responsibilities to which I never expose myself." He spoke slowly, gravely, as a man conscious of his high position. "Oh, I am so disappointed. It was a particular occasion and I was told that you alone could--" Two tears, two little tears, glittered on her eye-lashes. M. Arthur was moved. A woman, a pretty woman, crying there, before him! Never had such homage been paid to his genius. "Well, madame, I am willing to make an attempt. A very simple dress--" "Oh no, not simple. Very brilliant, on the contrary--everything that is most brilliant. Two of my friends are customers of yours (she named them), and I am Mme. Derline--" "Mme. Derline! You are Mme. Derline?" The two _Mme. Derlines_ were followed by a glance and a smile--the glance was at the newspaper and the smile was at Mme. Derline; but it was a discreet, self-contained smile--the smile of a perfectly gallant man. This is what the glance and smile said with admirable clearness: