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Updated: May 6, 2025
It was a gown so chic that, had he been a woman, he would have guessed at once that it was the latest from Paquin's. Inasmuch as he was a man, his sole comment was, "Plucky little thorough-bred! You don't catch her owning that she's down." The emerald shade brought out all the values of her coloring, the faint rose of her complexion, the daffodil gold of her flaxen hair.
If he had not done it himself, he had known how to get it done to suit him, as he knew how to get his wives and daughters dressed at Worth's or Paquin's.
"She would be but for what is past," said Mrs. Saxham. "She must be soon, for your sake. Your father would have wished that there should be as little delay as possible. Marry quietly at once, and take her abroad. If she loves you, as I know she does, and must, she will not regret the wedding-gown from Paquin's and the six bridesmaids in Directoire hats."
'I accuse you before God and man, he said, 'of being the author of these misfortunes. When some of the habitants came to him complaining that they had been forced against their will to join the rebels, he reminded them of the English proverb: 'You may lead a horse to the water, but you cannot make him drink. Unfortunately, the Abbé Paquin's good influence was counteracted by that of the Abbé Chartier, the curé of the neighbouring village of St Benoit, a rare case of an ecclesiastic lending his support to the rebel movement, in direct contravention of the orders of his superiors.
A morning at Paquin's revived her as sea breezes revive other women. Lunch followed in a room pleasantly shaded from the sun and decorated with a fair amount of taste. But the food was uneatable, of course; Mrs. Ogilvie could never get a thing to eat that she liked.
She wore a dress of dull rose-color, a soft, clinging silk, which floated about her as she danced, a creation of Paquin's, daring but delightful. Her eyes were very full and soft. She was looking her best, and knew it. Nevertheless, she was just at the moment, a little distrait.
Get me out a white gown, that white linen gown I got at Paquin's and have never worn yet. And put me out " She gave some directions about stockings and shoes, and went in to her dressing-room, where she stood before the mirror, carefully examining her face. Then she took off the hat she was wearing. "Lock the bedroom door and the door into monsieur's room!" she called, in a moment.
But with all the pleasure of seeing someone around my house, I simply could not think what had happened to her. Baroness B. a lady who would not hesitate in olden times to play a thousand pounds on a horse or order ten dresses at Pâquin's, here, asking my hospitality! If she were a Russian I could understand it, wives of Privy Counsellors and Ambassadors are selling cheese in Petrograd now.
She seemed all right now, and said M. Adam had not hurt her much, and that she was to go to him again to-morrow morning. I always like Paris even out of the season, don't you, Mamma? it is so gay. We had a little victoria and rushed along, not minding who we ran into, as is always the way with French cabs. When we got to Paquin's there were nobody but Americans there, and every one looked tired.
She put on the magnificent cloak, white silk, ermine lined, which he had seen at Paquin's and had insisted on buying. And they were off for the opera in the aristocratic looking auto he was taking by the week. She had a second triumph at the opera was the center that drew all glasses the instant the lights went up for the intermission.
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