‘After that, my relationship with Colette grew. I wanted to help the child. I bought clothes for her. She was only four years old, I learned. Colette told me that she tried to arrange to do a lot of work at home which was often possible for a seamstress. Then she knew that the child was all right. When she had to leave her she was in a state of dreadful anxiety. I was horrified. I gave her money so that there was always enough for them to eat and so that someone could look after the child when Colette was away. That went on for about a year. Colette was embarrassingly grateful.
‘She told me her story. It was not an unusual one: the coming to Paris, believing she would make her fortune there, perhaps marry a man who was wealthy by the standards she had been accustomed to. She said her family would not help her if they knew because they would be horrified to learn that she had an illegitimate child, but on consideration she thought her elder sister might. Berthe had always been the forceful member of the family and had looked after them all; she had been very upset when Colette had left home. Colette could not bear to tell them of her circumstances.
‘She had not been in Paris long when she found her tradesman. She had believed he would marry her. He had been devoted, but when the child was born he did not care for such responsibilities and his family arranged for him to marry another tradesman’s daughter. He came to see Colette for a while but the visits became less frequent, and then suddenly she learned that he had left Paris and she heard no more of him.
‘So there was poor Colette with a child to support when she found it was all she could do to support herself. She tried bravely. She was a good girl, Colette, admirable in many ways. I did not realize how ill she was. She was suffering from consumption as so many of those girls do, working in stuffy rooms, not having sufficient food … and warm clothing.
‘I did not see her for some time as I had been in the country and when eventually I went to her room I found her confined to her bed. She had at last sent for her sister and that was the first time I saw Berthe. I realized that Colette was dying, for in no other circumstances would she have sent for her sister. Berthe was clearly an admirable woman—stern, not very demonstrative but one who would do her duty as she saw it.
‘I talked to her and she said it would be difficult to take the child to the country. The family was strictly religious and would not take kindly to a bastard. Colette would have known that and it was only because she was desperate that she had begged Berthe to come to her and perhaps suggest some plan.
‘The sick woman for whom I had some affection, the stern but worthy aunt and the beautiful child all touched me deeply. I found the solution. It was that Berthe should come as a housekeeper. She was the sort of woman who would soon become skilled in the management of a household or anything she undertook. She should bring the child with her and the little girl could be brought up in my household.
‘As soon as I made this suggestion I saw that it was the way out for us all. Colette would die in peace; Berthe would have the sort of post which appealed to her and settle her family problems at the same time; the child would be well cared for and my conscience eased. You may be surprised to hear, Lottie, that I had a conscience in those days. But I did … and on occasions it would make itself heard to my discomfiture.’
I said: ‘It was good of you. And so Lisette came to the château.’
He smiled faintly. ‘I shall never forget Colette’s face when I told her what we were arranging. I was overwhelmed by her gratitude, which was embarrassing because what I was doing cost me little effort. She said I was a saint who had brought great happiness into her life and she would die in peace knowing that her little girl would be well cared for.’
‘It was good of you,’ I said, ‘although you could do it. Not all people bother themselves with the problems of others.’
‘And what did I get from it? The most excellent of housekeepers. So you see the advantage was mine. Colette died soon after that. I saw her lying in her coffin with a look of peace on her dead face which I shall never forget.’
‘Poor Lisette! Does she know of this?’
‘She wouldn’t remember very much—probably vaguely those rooms in which she used to be shut away, I don’t know. She couldn’t have been much more than five when she was taken away. She was told that her parents were dead and that Tante Berthe had taken their place. I don’t think the poor child got much pampering from Tante Berthe, but she would be given good food and brought up rather strictly—which might have been good for her. I gave orders that she was to share Sophie’s lessons and when you came she was with you and Sophie. I don’t know whether it was the right thing to have done. She was one of us … and yet not one of us,. I have always been a little anxious about Lisette.’
