Zipporah's Daughter полностью

He said in a low voice: ‘I am taking these ladies home. They belong to one of the great families in France. Good God, woman, have you no sense?’

He was clearly rather angry with her but when he turned to us he was all smiles.

‘Now,’ he said, ‘I am going to take you out to the street. I am going to put you into a.pot de chambre which will take you back to the hotel. Go straight in at once and never be so foolish again.’

‘Why is it so foolish to have one’s fortune told?’ asked Lisette defiantly.

‘Because frauds tell fortunes. That is not all. Fortune-telling is not the main business of that woman. Something you are too young to understand, but never do it again. If you do, you deserve all you get. Now go back and don’t be such silly little girls again.’

We came out into the street; he hailed the carriage, paid the driver and told him where to take us. He stood back and bowed as we drove away.

We were subdued until we reached the hôtel. Then we went up to my room and took off our second-hand dresses. Mine had suddenly become repulsive to me and I wondered who had worn it before.

‘What a strange adventure!’ I said. ‘What was it all about?’

Lisette looked wise. She had guessed, of course.

Madame Rougemont was what was known as a procuress. The fortune-telling was a blind. She had her dark and handsome gentleman waiting as they plied the girls with wine to make them acquiescent.

‘You’re making it up.’

‘No. I see it all clearly now. That girl met her young man because he was waiting for her.’

‘Do you mean that Monsieur St Georges was waiting for us?’

‘He was a noble gentleman. Therefore there were two for him to choose from.’

‘But he didn’t.’

‘Not when he realized who we were. Imagine the Comte’s rage if anything had happened to you.’

I stared at her in horror.

Lisette was thoughtful and then she said: ‘I wonder which one of us he would have chosen.’

A grand ball to celebrate Sophie’s betrothal was to be held in the hôtel and preparations went on for days. Sophie was in a twitter of excitement and it was wonderful to see her so happy. She was thrilled about the new ball dress which was being made for her. I was to have one too.

‘You realize that this is a very special occasion,’ she said. ‘You will meet Charles and see for yourself how wonderful he is.’

‘I very much look forward to meeting him,’ I said. ‘I think he must be a bit of a miracle-worker.’

‘He is different from everyone else,’ she cried ecstatically.

She and I paid several visits to the Paris dressmaker who was said to be the most fashionable in town. Sophie’s dress was of pale blue with yards of shimmering chiffon in the skirt and a low cut bodice which fitted her firmly and managed to make her look almost slender. Her dumpiness was less noticeable nowadays because of her radiant face. She was really becoming rather pretty. I was to have a similar dress in pink, which the dressmaker said would be a foil to my dark hair.

‘It will be your turn next,’ she said, as she fitted the gown on me.

In spite of the excitement I did notice that Lisette was rather quiet, and I fancied she was getting more resentful than she used to be about not being quite one of us. I sympathized with her, for it did seem to be a little unkind to let her take lessons with us, ride with us, be our constant companion and then on social occasions make it clear that she did not belong.

She went off by herself a good deal and often I looked for her and could not find her. If I had not been so absorbed by the coming ball, I might have thought something odd was happening. She seemed secretive and sometimes appeared to be enjoying a private joke. Usually she would have shared amusing incidents. But, I told myself, perhaps I was imagining again, as I often did.

I was with my mother more during those days for she had thrown herself wholeheartedly into the preparations.

‘Your father is very pleased about this match,’ she said. ‘He will be glad to see Sophie settled.’

‘I suppose the Tourvilles are a very distinguished family?’

‘They are not quite Aubigné,’ replied my mother with a certain pride and I suddenly remembered the years she had spent as the wife of Jean-Louis, so far removed, it seemed to me, from the life she led as Madame la Comtesse.

‘I think they are delighted to marry into the family,’ she went on. ‘And as I said, your father is very pleased.’

‘And Sophie is happy.’

‘That’s the best of all and I am so happy about it. She is not an easy girl …and so different from you, Lottie.’

‘I shall not be so easily disposed of.’

She laughed at me. ‘Don’t you think Sophie is very happy to be as you say disposed of?’

‘Sophie is in love.’

‘So will you be one day.’

She spoke earnestly because she knew I was thinking of Dickon and she hated anything to disturb the perfect life she had found with her Count.

‘I will never be again.’

She tried to laugh as though it were a joke; then she put her arms about me and held me against her.