The Tailor-Made Girl/Les Miserables
LES MISÉRABLES.
Young Mrs. Ennui.—Why, Jeannette, I thought you were still abroad!
Young Mrs. Blasé.—I was until I sailed a fortnight ago.
Young Mrs. Ennui.—What brought you home?
Young Mrs. Blasé.—I really don't know.
Young Mrs. Ennui.—There's absolutely nothing in New York.
Young Mrs. Blasé.—There was nothing in London or Paris, and we spent last winter in the Riviera.
Young Mrs. Ennui.—What is one to do?
Young Mrs. Blasé.—I really don't know.
Young Mrs. Ennui.—There are no new fashions in dinners or gowns.
Young Mrs. Blasé.—I've been presented, and I've owned a Japanese spaniel at least a month.
Young Mrs. Ennui.—And I had a white and gold room last season.
Young Mrs. Blasé.—I brought home an Indian Ayah for the children.
Young Mrs. Ennui.—Do you. find her interesting?
Young Mrs. Blasé.—Rather picturesque, you know! The children are afraid of her.
Young Mrs. Ennui.—Are they, indeed?
Young Mrs. Blasé.—Yes; I have a French bonne besides.
Young Mrs. Ennui.—I had a Chinese page at Newport this summer.
Young Mrs. Blasé.—Yes; did you bring him to New York?
Young Mrs. Ennui.—Oh, no, indeed! why, I had him two months!
Young Mrs. Blasé.—So long as that?
Young Mrs. Ennui.—Yes; I suppose the children are well?
Young Mrs. Blasé.—Oh, yes; I believe so, I saw them at dessert last night.
Young Mrs. Ennui.—You know Fido died last summer?
Young Mrs. Blasé.—How sad!
Young Mrs. Ennui.—Yes; I had three doctors.
Young Mrs. Blasé.—What was the trouble?
Young Mrs. Ennui.—Some heart affection, I think. The doctors suggested he might have eaten something that disagreed with him.
Young Mrs. Blasé.—Physicians are so unsympathetic. Why, Babette had an attaque de nerfs the other day, and Dr. Blunt called it fits.
Young Mrs. Ennui.—So distressing!
Young Mrs. Blasé.—Yes; I shall never employ him again.
Young Mrs. Ennui.—We buried Fido on the ocean lawn.
Young Mrs. Blasé.—My poor Arabella!
Young Mrs. Ennui.—Yes; I sent lovely mourning cards to all his little dog friends.
Young Mrs. Blasé.—How sweet!
Young Mrs. Ennui.—They were very unique. We draped his basket in white; black seemed so sombre for the dear little fellow.
Young Mrs. Blasé.—Of course!
Young Mrs. Ennui.—And I had a fac-simile of his head cut in onyx for a seal, and used it in lavender wax on all my letters for a fortnight. Poor little Fido!
Young Mrs. Blasé.—Oh, that was really touching!
Young Mrs. Ennui.—It was all very interesting.
Young Mrs. Blasé.—Oh, it must have been! If Babette should die I should use pale-blue wax; her skin is so pink the combination would be quite Frenchy!
Young Mrs. Ennui.—Yes, indeed!
Young Mrs. Blasé.—I think I must go now. Where do you show tonight?
Young Mrs. Ennui.—I really don't know. My maid keeps my tablets to lay out the gowns.
Young Mrs. Blasé.—Well, I shall be there, I presume.
Young Mrs. Ennui.—Yes; it would be a boon not to be asked somewhere.
Young Mrs. Blasé.—I'm positively desperate for a new emotion.
Young Mrs. Ennui.—I think seriously of putting a marble-top table in my boudoir.
Young Mrs. Blasé.—That would be startling. What can I do?
Young Mrs. Ennui.—You might use gilt-edged visiting cards.
Young Mrs. Blasé.—I believe I will. Fancy being actually harrowed!
Young Mrs. Ennui.—I have not asked after Mr. Blasé.
Young Mrs. Blasé.—He is en voyage; the steamer must be due now.
Young Mrs. Ennui.—He did not come with you, then?
Young Mrs. Blasé.—Oh, dear, no. We should have bored one another to death!
Young Mrs. Ennui.—I know. I met Mr. Ennui out one night last week, and he proposed a trip to California by special car.
Young Mrs. Blasé.—It would have been horribly tiresome.
Young Mrs. Ennui.—Yes, indeed! I said: "Why, Harold, I should have to see you every day for a whole week!"
Young Mrs. Blasé.—Oh, it is all so very fatiguing!
