Mrs. Vanderstein's jewels

MRS. VANDERSTEIN’S JEWELS BY MRS. CHARLES BRYCECHAPTER IThe room looked very cool in the afternoon light. A few bowls of white roses that were arranged about it seemed to lend it an aspect of more than usual specklessness.To Madame Querterot a person of no taste who made no pretension of being fastidious and who had moreover little sympathy with a passion for cleanliness when this was carried to exaggeration the airy lightness of the place suggested the convent school of her youthful days; and bringing again before her the figure of a stern sister superior who had been accustomed in those vanished times to deal out severe penalties to the youthful but constantly erring Justine caused her invariably to enter Mrs. Vanderstein’s bedroom after a quick intake of the breath on the threshold as if she were about to plunge into an icy bath.Mrs. Vanderstein ever the essence of punctuality was ready for her on this particular evening as she always was.Wrapped in some diaphanous white garment which she would perhaps have called a dressing-gown she lay on a silk covered sofa and lazily watched Madame Querterot unpacking the little bag in which she carried the accessories of her profession that of a hairdresser and beauty specialist.“You must make me very beautiful to-night Madame Justine� she said with a smile. “We are going to hear La Bohème and the Queen will be there. My box is nearly opposite the Royal box and in case Her Majesty’s eyes fall in my direction I wish to look my best.�“All eyes will not fail to be directed to your side of the theatre madame� replied Madame Querterot taking out her collection of pomade pots powder boxes and washes and arranging them in a semicircle upon a Louis XVI table. “Royalties know the use of opera glasses as well as any citizen. As for making you beautiful the good God has occupied Himself with that! I can only preserve what I find. I can make your beauty endure madame. More than that one must not ask of me. I am not the good God me!� and Madame Querterot’s plump shoulders shook with easy merriment.Mrs. Vanderstein too smiled. She did not suffer from any affectation of modesty as far as her obvious good looks were concerned. But she was obliged to own regretfully—though only to herself—that she was no longer as young as she had been; and the masseuse’s assurances that her youthful appearance could be indefinitely preserved fell on her ears as melodiously as if they were indeed a prelude to the magic strains that would presently rise to charm her through the envied if stuffy atmosphere of Covent Garden.“You are a flatterer Madame Justine� she murmured. Then before she laid her head back against the cushions and gave herself up to Madame Querterot’s ministrations she called to a figure that was seated in the window half hidden among the muslin curtains that fluttered before it: “Barbara be sure and tell me if you see anything interesting.�Barbara Turner answered without looking round:“Nothing has come yet but I am keeping a good look-out.�Mrs. Vanderstein closed her eyes and Madame Querterot after turning up her sleeves and arraying herself in an apron began to pass her short fingers over the placid features and smooth skin of the lady’s face. For a time nothing else stirred in the big room.A ray of sunlight passed very slowly across a portion of the grey panelled walls and coming to a gilded mirror climbed cautiously over the carved frame only to be caught and held a while on the flashing surface of the looking-glass.