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Updated: May 2, 2025
Christmas Eve! In honour of Jeanne, I put on one of my very best frocks Paquin. Moreover, I have decorated myself with rings and chains as though I were a silly Christmas Tree myself. Jeanne has enjoyed herself to-day. She and Torp rose before it was light to deck the rooms with pine branches.
There were bridesmaids in blue, choristers in red, tall women with flowery hats, young men in tight frock-coats and buttonholes, fresh 'flappers' in plaits, beauties of the future, and fascinating, battered creatures in Paquin dresses, beauties of the past.
She instantly decided on the yellow. Because she knew the shades would make her more startlingly beautiful than any other colour. To him she said: "A moon lady seems so far away and cold. I would be of earth and very near on that night. I choose the Empress." So she matched the colours exactly, wrote out the idea and forwarded the order to Paquin.
Her dress was Paquin, her jewellery extravagant, but her heart was as big as her banking account, and there was not a member of her household, from her adoring husband down to the kitchen-maid who evicted the grubs from the cabbages, who did not more or less worship the ground she walked on.
Paquin; full of life and movement were the pose of the figure, the fall of the draperies, and the tilt of the expressive fan. The other was the spirited portrait of Baron von Friedericks, a happy combination of cavalier and soldier in its manly strength. When but sixteen years old, the Princess Marie roused the admiration of the Russian court by her portrait of the Grand Duke Sergius.
She had discovered a little French dressmaker, whose husband had deserted her, leaving her with two small children to feed and educate, and to this humble, un-famous plier of the needle she entrusted her wardrobe with entirely successful results. Worth, Paquin, Doucet and other loudly advertised personages were all quoted as "creators" of her gowns, whereat she was amused.
"Please don't move," she exclaimed, as though her coming were the most natural thing in the world. "I am going to sit down with you, if I may!" He murmured an expression of conventional delight. She wore a dress of some soft white material, and her figure was as wonderful as ever. He recovered himself almost at once and studied her admiringly. "Paris?" he murmured. "Paquin!" she answered.
And, as he turned back reluctantly, she went on with her explanation: "No, it isn't the lure of some siren in a Paquin dress or undress: it's the lure of the game the great, horrid, hideous business game, which has got you, just as it's got most of the American husbands who are worth having. That's the lure we American women can't overcome; that's the rival who is breaking our hearts.
"I don't know ... till time comes.... Then we keep four servants up all night packing.... Must have some new gowns.... You know how you have to talk to Ducet and Paquin yourself." The young man went to sleep. The girls put their heads together and whispered. After a time they arose with a little capricious air, which completed Andrew's subjugation, and strolled away.
And her hands and feet and skin marvellous! And that small-boned slenderness of build that is so perfectly enchanting. Paquin would delight to dress her. And" her jangling laugh rang out, waking echoes from hollow places "it looks do you know? it looks as though he would get the chance." "Why does it?" demanded Saxham, turning his square face full upon Lady Hannah, and lowering his heavy brows.
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