On entering
the room, I find his daughter just putting away a
lavender-colored silk scarf, on which she has been embroidering
in silver what looks to me very like a crest and coat-of-arms.
" 'I don't mind your seeing what I am about, Citizen Lomaque,'
says she; 'for I know my father can trust you. That scarf is sent
back to us by the purchaser, an ex-emigrant lady of the old
aristocratic school, to have her family coat-of-arms embroidered
on it.'
" 'Rather a dangerous commission even in these mercifully
democratic times, is it not?' says I.
" 'The old lady, you must know,' says she, 'is as proud as
Lucifer; and having got back safely to France in these days of
moderate republicanism, thinks she may now indulge with impunity
in all her old-fashioned notions. She has been an excellent
customer of ours, so my father thought it best to humor her,
without, however, trusting her commission to any of the workroom
women to execute. We are not living under the Reign of Terror
now, certainly; still there is nothing like being on the safe
side.'
" 'Nothing,' I answer. 'Pray what is this ex-emigrant's name?'
" 'Danville,' replies the citoyenne Clairfait. 'She is going to
appear in that fine scarf at her son's marriage.'
" 'Marriage!' I exclaim, perfectly thunderstruck.
" 'Yes,' says she. 'What is there so amazing in that? By all
accounts, the son, poor man, deserves to make a lucky marriage
this time.
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