CHAPTER XIV.
"The character is lost! Her head adorned with lappets, pinned aloft, And ribands streaming gay, superbly raised, Indebted to some smart wig-weaver's hand For more than half the tresses it sustains."-- COWPER.
Upon her return to Paris, Victoire felt melancholy; but she exerted herself as much as possible in her usual occupation; finding that employment and the consciousness of doing her duty were the best remedies for sorrow.
One day as she was busy settling Madame Feuillot's accounts a servant came into the shop and inquired for Mademoiselle Victoire: he presented her a note, which she found rather difficult to decipher.

It was signed by her cousin Manon, who desired to see Victoire at her hotel.

"_Her hotel_!" repeated Victoire with astonishment.

The servant assured her that one of the finest hotels in Paris belonged to his lady, and that he was commissioned to show her the way to it.

Victoire found her cousin in a magnificent house, which had formerly belonged to the Prince de Salms.
Manon, dressed in the disgusting, indecent extreme of the mode, was seated under a richly-fringed canopy.