The Sunday herald and weekly national intelligencer., 1890-11-23
A hADY's MAIDS REVENGE.
The Unpleasant Predicament of a Lady o
Fashion.


Fashion.
From the N. Y. Tribune.
The fashion of sewing tiny sachets of fra
grant powders in the corsage of dresses is not
new, and is certainly a very agreeable one.
There also the perfume used must be no
stronger than violet or peau d'Espagne, amber,
or orris-root. A well-known Partisan elegante,
the young Countess de c., had, two years
ago, good cause to regret having ever adopted
this fashion. The Countess, who is one of the
prettiest members of the French aristocracy, is
somewhat extravagant on the subject of dress,
and has all the costly caprices of queen of
society accustomed to reign in the most brilliant
capital city of the world. All bow before her
sceptre; she gives law and makes the fashions,
and conquests unnumbered strew her path as
thick as the leaves on a willow tree. One day
she had occasion to scold her maid, who had
neglected some part of her service. On that
same evening the Countess was going to ball
at the Duchesse d'Uze's, and, as all the "fne
fleur' of French and foreign society was to be
present, the beauty desired particularly to look
her very best Standing in front of her dress
ing-room glass, with the CLEAN of the wax
lights playing on her white brow, on her daz-
zling eyes and on her soft, golden curls, she
surveyed her exquisite toilette of white velvet
strewn with silver lilies and ablaze with dia-
monds. A great bouquet of ''Rere d'Or'' roses
nestled on her breast, making its whiteness look
like snow Another hurried look, for her car
riage had just been announced, and the Count
ess, turning to her abigail, exclaimed impa-
tiently: "You have forgotten my sachet give
it to me quickly" The maid hastened to COM
ply with the request, but as she did SO there
was q mischievous twinkle in the girls eye
which her mistress unfortunately did not no.
tice. Slipping the little satin bag in her cor
sage, she swept out of the room, and ten min
utes later made her entrance in the salons of
the Duchess.
Immediately surrounded by crowds of ad-
mirers anxious for waltz or quadrille, the
Countess threw herself with great zest into the
amusements of the evening. The rooms were
very warm, although great blocks Of ice had
been placed on bronze consols in every corner
to cool the air. On danced the little Countess,
getting warmer and warmer herself, but enjoy
ing the rapid motion, the exquisite music, and
the perfect floor. Suddenly, to her intense sur
prise, she became aware of a notable change in
the conduct of her partners. They gradually
dropped away from her side and appeared to
avoid her. For the first time in her life she
was allowed to sit through dance unattended.
What was it that she read in the glance of these
men SO anxious to be near her earlier in the
evening? 1t was not censure, not injury, not
wonder; it was more vague than any of these,
yet to her it spoke them all For few seconds
her lovely antelope eyes lightened with anxiety,
her delicate bloom paled; then rising from her
seat she approached the place where her most
intimate friend, the Marquise de B., was stand
ing.
''What is the matter? What haye done ?''
she asked tremulously.
The Marquise, repressing a smle drew her
friend into a secluded embrasure screened by
Towering shrubs and whispered few words in
| her ear.
ssGood heavens ~ exclaimed the Countess,
~ had noticed this myself, but could not think
| whence it came,' and with a violent gesture she
| tore the sachet which her maid had handed to
! her from within her dress. 1t was filled with
powdered Parmesan cheese, almost melted by
| the warmth Of the nest wherein it had been
| hidden. A veil must be drawn over the scene
which took place between mistress and maid
and it was long, very long, before the Countess
| got over the horrible memory of her femme de
! chambre's vengeance.