Lord Linden, who had resolved not to leave the house until he had discovered his incognita, waited with laudable patience, closely scanning every lady who passed through the adjoining apartments. His position did not command a view of the workroom. An hour passed, and he began to get puzzled. The non-appearance of the lady who had entered the house was inexplicable, unless she resided there. His perplexity was momentarily increasing, when he saw Count Tristan in conversation with the forewoman. They left the apartment together. It then occurred to Lord Linden that there might be other exhibition-rooms in the lower story, and he had better reconnoitre. He had made up his mind to do this, and was descending the stair, when he caught sight of Maurice de Gramont and involuntarily retreated. What was Count Tristan doing here? What brought his son here? Neither of the gentlemen were accompanied by ladies. He returned to his former station, uncertain what step to take next. Just then, Victorine passed through the apartment on her way to the workroom. He accosted her and inquired if there were exhibition rooms on the lower floor. She informed him that the first story was reserved by Mademoiselle Melanie for her own use.

Lord Linden returned to his arm-chair, and had just made up his mind that the lady of whom he was in search had visited Mademoiselle Melanie in her own apartments and left the house again, when he was startled, astounded, and overjoyed by the sight of the very being he sought, tranquilly approaching him.

Madeleine looked serious, even sad; for she had consented to stoop to an action which mortified her deeply.

Lord Linden was so thoroughly amazed at her sudden appearance that he could not move,—could not collect himself to address her.

She courtesied, and said, with grave sweetness,—

"I was only informed a few moments ago of your presence here, my Lord."

Lord Linden rose and stammered out, "Is it possible? Do I really behold you? This morning I saw you enter this house. I gained my admission as Madame de Fleury's escort, and lingered in the hope of seeing you after she left."

Lord Linden did not know how to proceed. He had expected to encounter his incognita wearing her hat and mantle. He had supposed that her visit to the residence of the celebrated couturiÈre was to make some purchase. To behold her so apparently at home bewildered him.

Madeleine perfectly comprehended his perplexity, and, with the utmost composure, attempted to clear away the mist from his mind by saying,—

"I beg pardon; I was not aware that you accompanied Madame de Fleury. As I have the honor of numbering Lady Augusta Linden, your lordship's sister, among my customers, I thought"—

"Customers? Your customers? You, then, are"—

"Mademoiselle Melanie, the mantua-maker," answered Madeleine with an unfaltering voice.

"You? Can it be?"

Pointing in the direction of the workroom, she answered with a half-smile, "Yonder are a number of witnesses who can testify to my identity."

Lord Linden, trying to conceal the shock he had received, and gazing upon her with admiration, exclaimed, in an impassioned tone,—

"Ever since I first met you, when you were returning from"—

"From New York," broke in Madeleine, "where I went to choose silks and velvets and other feminine paraphernalia for the use of my customers."

Lord Linden was again discomfited. After a moment he went on,—

"I have sought you everywhere. I was certain I should find you in the first drawing-rooms in Washington."

"You find me in a salon which a great many ladies visit before they enter those drawing-rooms."

"It is incredible!"

"To me it seems very comprehensible," answered Madeleine stoically.

He looked into her lovely countenance and continued, with increasing fervor,—

"I have never ceased to think of you. No other woman has had power to efface your image. Having known you, without ever suspecting who and what you are"—

Madeleine interrupted him.

"Now that you are aware who I am and what I am, my lord, it becomes easier to dissipate any illusion which owes its origin to a mystery with which you were pleased to surround me."

"To exchange my illusions, perhaps, for others, more captivating, more poetic," resumed the nobleman.

"Do you talk of poetry, my lord, to a mantua-maker?"

"Say, rather, to one who, in spite of her vocation, inspires me with the most absolute veneration. I swear to you—But no, my actions, not my words, must prove my admiration. You shall find me ever at your command. I shall count it the greatest happiness of my life to devote myself to your service."

"My lord, you tempt me to put your words to the test."

"Do so, I pray you. It is what I most desire."

"By a singular chance," said Madeleine, "one of those marvellous coincidences which sometimes occur in real life, but which look like fiction when they are related in books, an opportunity presents itself that may enable you to prove the sincerity of your protestations. You must understand that I am a woman of business. But that is easily comprehended, as I am a woman who toils for her daily bread. I take great interest in the decision of the committee of a certain railroad company, one of the members of which I desire to influence."

Lord Linden looked stupefied, and almost as if he thought Madeleine were making a jest of him. But her grave manner contradicted that suggestion.

She went on as tranquilly as before,—

"They are to decide, at their next meeting, whether a certain railroad shall take the direction to the right or left. I desire that the left road should be chosen."

Lord Linden still regarded her as though he were too completely astounded to make any comment.

"Certain members of the committee will, I am aware, vote for the left road. I wish to secure the vote of Mr. Rutledge."

"Mr. Rutledge!" exclaimed Lord Linden. "I know him well."

"He is the warm admirer of Lady Augusta Linden," observed Madeleine. "It is even reported that he aspires to her hand."

Lord Linden showed plainly that he was astonished to find one in Madeleine's position so conversant with the affairs both of the business world and the beau monde.

Madeleine proceeded,—

"If any influence can be used with Mr. Rutledge to induce him to vote for the left road, it will cause me gratification, I cannot explain of what nature. You have spoken, my lord, of desiring to serve me. I have very frankly pointed out in what manner it was possible that you might confer a favor upon me. If I could enter into full particulars, this request would lose its singularity. As that cannot be done, I can only entertain the hope that you will believe it has an interpretation which I should not blush to reveal."

"That I feel,—of that I am certain," returned the nobleman, earnestly. "No one could look at you and doubt the nobility of your actions and motives. I am almost hardy enough to venture to promise Mr. Rutledge's vote. Will you permit me to return here after I have spoken with him, and report to you the result of my advocacy?"

Before Madeleine could reply, Mrs. Gilmer entered the adjoining room.

Madeleine rose, and, courtesying to her visitor, said,—

"Your lordship will excuse me; my duty requires that I should leave you and attend to this lady."

She glided out of the room, but Lord Linden continued to watch her, as though he could not force his eyes away.

It was some time before he made his exit.

Mrs. Gilmer was looking very much depressed. She had begun to believe that it was very possible she would receive no invitation to Madame de Fleury's ball.

"Ah, Mademoiselle Melanie," said she, as Madeleine entered; "you will sympathize with me. I have never had such a mortification before. I knew Madame de Fleury's enmity, but I could not believe her so cruel, so inhuman. She is thoroughly devoid of feeling, and has determined to leave me out of her invitations. I actually induced the Russian ambassadress, with whom she is very intimate, to intercede for me. I have just seen Madame Orlowski, and she tells me Madame de Fleury refused point blank. She resisted Madame Orlowski's most urgent entreaties, and will not yield to any one; I have no longer any hope. I shall be excluded from this ball, of which all Washington is talking. How am I to survive such a slight?"

"It, however, may still be possible," said Madeleine, smilingly, "to obtain you an invitation."

"You think so? You really think so?" cried Mrs. Gilmer, in joyful surprise. "Do not raise my hopes to the highest pitch to cast them down again unless you want to make me ill for a month. Who could have the power to obtain me an invitation after the Russian ambassadress has been refused?"

"It sounds very presumptuous to say so, but I may have."

"You? My dear Mademoiselle Melanie,—you? I can well believe it. Madame de Fleury adores you; she owes all her success to you. Oh, I know it, well enough, though you may pretend to be ignorant of what you have done for her. And you seriously think you can get me this invitation? You will positively make the effort?"

"I will use my best endeavors, and I am pretty sure I shall succeed; but it is to be the return for a favor which I desire you to grant me."

"A favor? You can ask none that I will not grant in return for this invitation," replied Mrs. Gilmer, eagerly.

Madeleine could scarcely repress a smile, tinged with a slightly scornful expression.

"You American ladies are said to be all-powerful with your husbands; you, no doubt, have great influence with Mr. Gilmer?"

"I fancy I have," said Mrs. Gilmer, tossing her graceful head. "I arrange matters so as to have him in my power. I know his weak points, and I make it a rule to play upon them until I obtain everything I desire. Just at this moment, he is in a particularly favorable state: he is frantically jealous; though, between ourselves, I never give him real cause. I only excite his jealousy to use it as a valuable weapon against himself. Tell me quickly what favor you desire."

"Mr. Gilmer is a member of a committee which is to decide upon the course a certain railroad is to take. I wish to secure his vote for the left road."

"How odd! What difference can it make to you?"

"It would occupy too much time to explain that, and might not interest you. The important question is, can he be induced to vote for this left road?"

"I dare say; I do not doubt it,—that is, if you are really in earnest, and can promise me my invitation to the ball in exchange for his vote."

"The one depends upon the other," replied Madeleine. "I had the good fortune to secure the vote of Mr. Gobert, the banker of Monsieur de Fleury, and"—

"Mr. Gobert votes for the left road? Ah, that increases the difficulty. My husband makes a point of never voting as he does,—never! It is enough that Mr. Gobert votes one way for him to vote the other."

"That is singular; they are both bankers, and I thought they were friends."

"It is because they are both bankers that they are the bitterest enemies. Talk of the jealousies of women, of artists, of men of genius, of nations! Those are nothing to the jealousy of these rival capitalists, who are engaged in a perpetual strife to excel each other. If Mr. Gobert gives a ball that costs two thousand dollars, Mr. Gilmer gives one that costs four thousand. If Mr. Gobert builds a superb house, Mr. Gilmer builds a palace. It is a steeple-chase of vanity, in which the conqueror has for the only price of his victory the delight of seeing his rival conquered."

"Then you find the difficulty of reconciling Mr. Gilmer to vote for the left road beyond your skill?"

"No,—no,—I do not say that. I do not admit that, by any means. But Mr. Gobert is a great obstacle."

"But one which the pleasure of attending this ball will enable you to surmount?"

"Yes, I trust so. There is a way,—there is a sacrifice I can make; and I will not hesitate for such an object. My husband detests, without the slightest cause, a gentleman who visits me frequently: now, if I promised not to receive this obnoxious, but very delightful individual (whom I care nothing about), I think Mr. Gilmer, in return, would be willing, for once, to cast, his vote on the same side as his enemy. It would need some such grave inducement, some such unquestionable sacrifice on my part."

"That sacrifice may also be a prudent action," observed Madeleine.

"Oh, I do not know about that," replied the thoughtless woman of fashion; "a woman is expected to have admirers; they only render her more valuable in the eyes of her husband. I should not consent to offend this devoted friend without some strong incentive. But to insure being present at Madame de Fleury's ball, I would agree to anything. So, it is a bargain: if I obtain you my husband's vote, you obtain me this invitation?"

"That is our compact," answered Madeleine.

"Agreed. I shall return home with a light heart; you have cheered me wonderfully; I am inclined to be so amiable to all the world, my husband included, that all the world and my husband are your debtors. When shall I receive the good news that you have conquered Madame de Fleury?"

"At whatever time you think you will be prepared to send me the intelligence that you have vanquished Mr. Gilmer."

"That will be this evening, before my husband goes to his club."

"By this evening, then, I will have procured you the invitation."

"Remember, I depend upon you. Good-morning."

Mrs. Gilmer departed in high good-humor, leaving Madeleine reflecting with regret upon the tools which harsh circumstance seemed to force her to use.