Mrs. Bennett, wife of him whose name was synonymous with wealth and social position. Because Mrs. Bennett was so hard to please, Madame Francine had asked Mimi always to attend to that grand dame’s wishes. When one day no design submitted to Mrs. Bennett was satisfactory, Mimi asked her to leave the matter in her hands.
“… Yes—yes. I’ll do it, for I’ll scream if I have to worry over getting a simple evening gown a minute longer. Besides, I’m late already to a luncheon engagement. But remember, Miss Daquin, this is a very, very important occasion and my gown must be perfect. If it isn’t—well—” and Mrs. Bennett’s voice trailed off into a silence many times as expressive as any spoken words might have been.
The result of Mimi’s labours, a creation of green charmeuse and silvery ornaments, made Mrs. Bennett beyond all doubt the most strikingly gowned woman at the dinner to the British nobleman who spoke approvingly of her beauty many times to her during that memorable evening. And Mrs. Bennett enjoyed no less the poorly concealed envious looks which came from her friends as the Englishman hovered near her. Nor did Mrs. Bennett fail to tell Francine how pleased she was with Mimi’s creation nor to recommend Mimi to all her friends. And Francine began to watch Mimi and her work as she herself found that the years she had given in building her establishment were beginning to take their toll. …
A cold and nasty November day, with icily grey clouds and nipping breezes, brought a summons to Mimi from Madame Francine herself. One year had passed since the war had ended. New York and Paris again were busying themselves with the making of fine raiment—almost forgotten already were the days of terror and sorrow.
She was perturbed by the summons though common sense told her that the great Francine herself never condescended to perform so vulgar