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And one sees in the fields of Savoy the high hat with conical crown, with brim either wide or flat, which has now become so fashionable; also the flat mushroom hat of straw with the natural bunch of corn and red poppy, which has gone from Fanchon up to the duchess. They both come from the fields.
However, Virginia explained that she had endeavored to persuade both her sister and Mr. Gray to accompany the General and herself, but that Mr. Gray had complained of indisposition, having suffered greatly from headache, on account of inhaling so much smoke at the warehouse fire; and, of course, Fanchon would not leave him. So they danced the quadrille with Jefferson at the piano and Mr.
"Do you know why I have sent for you at this hour, good Dame Dodier?" asked Angelique, abruptly. "Call me La Corriveau; I am not good Dame Dodier. Mine is an ill name, and I like it best, and so should you, Mademoiselle, for the business you sent me for is not what people who say their prayers call good. It was to find your lost jewels that Fanchon Dodier summoned me to your abode, was it not?"
We will set out at once, Fanchon, for business like that of Angelique des Meloises cannot wait." Fanchon walked into the house to see her uncle Dodier. When she was gone, the countenance of La Corriveau put on a dark and terrible expression. Her black eyes looked downwards, seeming to penetrate the very earth, and to reflect in their glittering orbits the fires of the underworld.
I protest I only live, exist, eat, drink, rest, for my sweet, sweet children! for my wicked Willy, for my self-willed Fanny, dear naughty loves!" Mimi and Fanchon, two quivering Italian greyhounds, jump into their lady's arms, and kiss her hands, but respect her cheeks, which are covered with rouge. "No, my dear! "You are full of feeling, dear Anna," says the Baroness.
"They say she has dealings with that horrid Mere Malheur, and I believe it," replied Fanchon, with a shrug of disgust. "Ah! do you think Mere Malheur knows her business or any of your aunt's secrets, Fanchon?" asked Angelique, thoroughly roused.
"Oh, but it was from the Intendant, my Lady! I heard her repeat his name and pray God to bless Francois Bigot for his kind words. That is the Intendant's name, is it not, my Lady?" "To be sure it is! I should not have doubted you, Fanchon! but could you gather the purport of that letter? Speak truly, Fanchon, and I will reward you splendidly. What think you it was about?"
Dame Josephte Dodier, whom they call La Corriveau? Is she your aunt?" Angelique knew very well she was. But it was her cue to pretend ignorance in order to impose on Fanchon. "Yes, ill-natured people call her La Corriveau, but she is my aunt, nevertheless.
Shrinking with fear, Fanchon replied faintly, "No, my Lady; I cannot read." "And you have allowed no other person to read it?" "No, my Lady; I was afraid to show the letter to any one; you know I ought not to have taken it!" "Was no inquiry made about it?" Angelique laid her hand upon the girl's shoulder, who trembled from head to foot.
Peering out into the dismal night, she found her own future as black, and it seemed no wonder that the Sisters loved the convent life; that the pale nuns forsook the world wherein there was so much useless unkindness; where women were petty and jealous, like that cowardly Fanchon, and men who looked great were tricksters, like Fanchon's betrothed. Miss Betty clenched her delicate fingers.
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