"
"Have you much to do to-day?"
Monsieur Martin drew out a little notebook, with ivory tablets, and
a silver monogram, and held it up before Pilar's eyes.
"Eleven heads after that of Madame la Comtesse."
"All for the embassy ball?"
"No, madame; I have another dance to-night in the Faubourg, and a
betrothal party in the American colony."
While speaking he had not remained idle. The coiffure was being
built up on a different plan, and this time Monsieur Martin appeared
to be satisfied with his creation. He walked all round the smiling
countess, begged her to walk slowly up and down the room once or
twice, touched up the front locks a little, and then the back, and
finally ejaculated:
"Charming! Ravishing! Our head will have a great success!"
He departed, after a ceremonious leave-taking. At the door of the
boudoir his servant again relieved him of his box, and carried it
after him downstairs, and a few minutes later they heard his
carriage drive away.
"You have not anything like that in Berlin yet," said Pilar,
laughing, when the solemn and important artist had left.
"I think not," Wilhelm replied; "at least, not in the circles with
which I am acquainted. But I do not laugh at him--on the contrary, I
envy him.
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