IX
A stoutish woman out of a Paris fashion-plate came trotting across
the room, smiling in welcome: "Meester Rosythe!" She had black
earrings flapping from each ear, and her face was white, with a
streak of scarlet for lips. She took the critic by his two hands,
and the critic, laughing, said: "Respondez, Madame! Does God bring
the ladies to this place?"
"Ah, surely, Meester Rosythe! The god of beautee, he breengs them to
us! And the leetle god with the golden arrow, the rosy cheeks and
the leetle dimple--the dimple that we make heem for two hundred
dollars a piece--eh, Meester Rosythe? He breengs the ladies to us!"
The critic turned. "Madame Planchet, permit me to introduce Mr.
Carpenter. He is a man of wonder, he heals pain, and does it by
means of love."
"Oh, how eenteresting! But what eef love heemself ees pain--who
shall heal that, eh, Meester Carpentair?"
"O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-h!" came the moan.
Said Rosythe: "Mr. Carpenter thinks you make the ladies suffer too
much. It worries him."
"Ah, but the ladies do not mind! Pain? What ees eet? The lady who
makes the groans, she cannot move, and so she ees unhappy. Also, she
likes to have her own way, she ees a leetle--what you say?--spoilt.
But her troubles weel pass; she weel be beautiful, and her husband
weel love her more, and she weel be happy."
"O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-oh!" from the other room; and Madame Planchet
prattled away: "I say to them, Make plenty of noises! Eet helps! No
one weel be afraid, for all here are worshippers of the god of
beautee--all weel bear the pains that he requires. Eh, Meester
Carpentair?"
Carpenter was staring at her. I had not before seen such intensity
of concentration on his face. He was trying to understand this
situation, so beyond all believing.
"I weel tell you something," said Madame Planchet, lowering her
voice confidentially. "The lady what you hear--that ees Meeses T-S.
You know Meester T-S, the magnate of the peectures?"
Carpenter did not say whether he knew or not.
"They come to me always, the peecture people; to me. the magician,
the deputee of the god of beautee. Polly Pretty, she comes, and
Dolly Dimple, she comes, and Lucy Love, she comes, and Betty Belle
Bird. They come to me for the hair, and for the eyes, and for the
complexion. You are a workair of miracles yourself--but can you do
what I do? Can you make the skeen all new? Can you make the old
young?"
"O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-oh!"
"Mary Magna, she comes to me, and she breengs me her old
grandmother, and she says, 'Madame,' she says, 'make her new from
the waist up, for you can nevair tell how the fashions weel change,
and what she weel need to show.' Ha, ha, ha, she ees wittee, ees the
lovely Mary! And I take the old lady, and her wrinkles weel be gone,
and her skeen weel be soft like a leetle baby's, and in her cheeks
weel be two lovely dimples, and she weel dance with the young boys,
and they weel not know her from her grandchild--ha, ha, ha!--ees eet
not the wondair?"
I knew by now where I was. I had heard many times of Madame
Planchet's beauty-parlors. I sat, wondering; should I take Carpenter
by the arm, and lead him gently out? Or should I leave him to fight
his own. fight with modern civilization?
"O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-oh!"
Madame turned suddenly upon me. "I know you, Meester Billee," she
said. "I have seen you with Mees Magna! Ah, naughtee boy! You have
the soft, fine hair--you should let it grow--eight inches we have to
have, and then you can come to me for the permanent wave. So many
young men come to me for the permanent wave! You know eet? Meester
Carpentair, you see, he has let hees hair grow, and he has the
permanent wave--eet could not be bettair eef I had done eet myself.
I say always, 'My work ees bettair than nature, I tell nature by the
eemperfections.' Eh, voila?"
I am not sure whether it was for the benefit of me or of Carpenter.
The deputee of the god of beautee was moved to volunteer a great
revelation. "Would you like to see how we make eet--the permanent
wave? I weel show you Messes T-S. But you must not speak--she would
not like eet if I showed her to gentlemen. But her back ees turned
and she cannot move. We do not let them see the apparatus, because
eet ees rather frightful, eet would make them seek. You will be very
steel, eh?"
"Mum's the word, Madame," said Rosythe, speaking for the three of
us.
"O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-oh!" moaned the voice.
"First, I weel tell you," said Madame. "For the complete wave we wind
the hair in tight leetle coils on many rods. Eet ees very delicate
operations--every hair must be just so, not one crooked, not one
must we skeep. Eet takes a long time--two hours for the long hair;
and eet hurts, because we must pull eet so tight. We wrap each coil
een damp cloths, and we put them een the contacts, and we turn on
the eelectreeceetee--and then eet ees many hours that the hair ees
baked, ees cooked een the proper curves, eh? Now, very steel, eef
you please!"
And softly she opened the door.
