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Each Humber contains a Complete, First-Class Novel by a Celebrated American or European Author.
CHEAPEST LIBRARY EVER ISSUED,—PUBLISHED. SEMI-WEEKLY.—BY SUBSCRIPTION, PER YEAR, 104 NUMBERS, $4.50.—JULY 1st, 1884,
Entered at the Post-Office at New York for Transmission through the Mails at Second Class Rates,
LP) Det F. M. LUPTON, Publisher .
sunnene-{ Dies B Lents eo Murray st, wew Yorn. New Series.—Vol, I.—No. 44,
Sonar YS Sa
: A Novel.
By WILKIE COLLINS,
AUTHOR OF “THE WOMAN IN WHITE,” “NO NAME,” “THE MOONSTONE,” “ARMADALE,” “ THE TWO DESTINIES,”
“MY LADYS MONEY,” “SISTER ROSE,” “THE NEW MAGDALEN.” ETC., ETC.
PART FIRST.
CHAPTER I.
AxnovT 2 centur a8, there lived in the ancient city of Pisa a famous
ftalian milliner, who, by way of vindicating to all customers her famil-
jarity with Paris fashions, adopted a French title, and called herself the
Demoiselle Grifoni. She was a wizen little woman, with a mischievous
face, a quick tongue, a nimble foot, a talent for business, and an uncer-
tain disposition. Rumor hinted that she was immensely rich; and scan-
dal suggested that she would do anything for money.
e@ one undeniable good quality which raised Demoiselle Grifoni
above allherrivalsin the trade was her inexhaustible fortitude. She
was never known to yield an inch under any pressure of adverse circum-
stances. Thus the memorable occasion of her life on which*she was
threatened with ruin was also the occasion on which she most trium-
phantly asserted the energy and decision of her character. At the height
of the demoiselle’s prosperity, her skilled forewoman and cutter-out
basely married and started in business as a rival. Such a calamity as
this would have ruined an ordinary milliner; but the invincible Grifoni
roso superior to it almost without an effort, and proved incontestably that
it was impossible for hostile Fortune to catch her at the end of her re-
sources. While the minor milliners were prophesying that she would
shut up shop, she was quietly carrying on a private correspondence with
an agentin Pans. Nobody knew what these letters were about until a
few weeks had elapsed, and then circulars were received by all the ladies
in Pisa, announcing that the best French forewoman who could be got for
money was engaged to superintend the great Grifoni establishment. This
mascs-xtroke decided the victory. All the demoiselle’s customers de-
clined giving orders elsewhere until the forewoman trom Paris had ex-
hibited to the natives of Pisa the latest fashions from the metropolis of
the world of dress.
The Frenchwoman arrived punctual to. the appointed day, glib and
curt, smiling and flippant, tight of face and supple of figure. Her namo
was Mademoiselle Virginie, and her family had inhumanly deserted her.
She was set to work the momént she was inside the doors of the Grifoni
establishment. A room was devoted to her own private use; magmificent
materials in velvet, silk, and satin, with due accompaniment of. muslins,
jaces, and ribbons, were placed at her disposal; she was told to spare no
expense, and to produce in the shortest possible time, the finest and new-
est specimen-dresses for exhibition in the show-room. Mademoiselle
Virginie undertook to do everything required of her, produced her port-
folios of patterns and her book of colored designs, and asked for one as-
sistant who could speak French enough to interpret her orders to the
Italian girls in the work-room.
‘«T have the ve erson you want,” cried Demoiselle Grifoni. “A
workwoman we tall Bri ida here—the idlest slut in Pisa, but as sharp as
fnneedle—has been in France, and speaks the language liko a native.
Zl send her to you directly.”
Mademoiselle Virginie‘was not left long alone with her patterns and
wks, A tall woman, with bold black eyes, a reckless manner, and a step
as firm as a man’s, stalked into the room with the gait of a tragedy-queet
crossing the stage. The instant her cyes fell on the French forewoman,
she stopped, threw up her hands in astonishment, and exclaimed:
** Finette!”
‘‘Teresai” cried the Frenchwoman, casting her scissors on the table,
and advancing a few’steps.
“Hush! call me Brignda.”’
** Hush! call me Virginie.”
These two exclamations were uttered at the same moment, and then
the two women scrutinized each other in silence. The swarthy cheeks of
the Italian turned to a dull yellow, and the voice of the Frenchwoman
trembled a little when she spoke again.
* “ How, in the name of Heaven, have you dropped down in the world
as low as this?” she asked. ‘‘I thought you were provided for
when ”
“Silence!” interrupted Brigida. “‘ You see I was not provided for, 1
have had my misfortunes; and you are the last woman alive who ought to
refer to them.” .
“Do you think I have not had my misfortunes, too, since we met!”
(Brigida’s face brightened maliciously at those words.) ‘ You-have had
your revenge,” continued Mademoiselle Virginie coldly, turning away to
the table, and taking up the scissors again.
Brigida followed her, threw ona arm roughly round her neck, and
kissed her on the cheek. ‘Let us be friends again,” she said. The
Frenchwoman laughed. ‘Tell me how I have had my revenge,” pur-
sued the other, tightening her grasp. Mademoiselle Virginie signed ta
Brigida to stoop, and whispered rapidly in her ear. The Italian listened
eagerly, with fierce suspicious eyes fixed on the door. When the whis-
poring ceased, she loosened her hold; and, with a sigh of relief, pushed
ack her heavy black hair from her temples. ‘Now, we are friends,”
she said,
vee
e
and sat down indolently in a chair placed by the work-table.
riends,” repeated Mademoiselle Virginie, with another laugh.
‘* And now for business,” she continued, getting a row of pins ready tor
use by patting them between her tecth. “I am here, ¥ believe, for the
purpose of ruining tho late forewoman, who has set up in opposition to
us? Good! Ivilruin her. Spread out the yellow Yrocaded silk, my
dear, and pin that pattern on at your end, while I pin at mine. And what
are your plans, Brigida? (Mind you don’t torget that Finette is dead, and
that Virginie has risen from her ashes.) You can’t possibly intend to stop
here all your life? (Leave an inch outside the paper, all round.) You
must have projects? What aro they?”
‘Look at my figure,” said Brigida, placing herself in an attitude in
the middle of the room. :
‘*Ahl” rejoined the other, ‘it’s not what it was. There’s too much
of it. You want diet, walking, and a French staymaker,” muttered Ma-
demoiselle Virginie thpoagh her chevaux-de-tnse of pins.
- “Did the goddesg/Minerva walk, and employ a French staymaker? I
thought she rode uyfon clouds, and lived at a period before waists were
invented.” *
“What do yexf mean?”
