I am unconvinced. “
“Then, dear Minelle, you must remain so. The fact is this besides Etienne the Bastard we have Leon the Peasant, acfl let me tell you this: If I had not explained the situation you would never have guessed the origins of either.”
“It is an unusual household.”
That made Margot laugh.
“Until I came to England and I the orderly manners of Derringham Hall and how that whitj is unpleasant is never mentioned and therefore presumed n<r to exist … until I had a peep into your schoolhouse where life seemed so simple and so easy, I did not understand what an unusual household I had come from.”
“You saw only the surface. We all have our problems. l that easy-to-live-in schoolhouse there was often the question of whether we should be able to pay our way and that question became acute during my last weeks there.”
“I know, and to that very state of affairs perhaps I owe void presence here, so does it not show that there is always goof in everything that happens? If the school had been flourishing you would not have left it and I should be alone. But f< my father’s youthful indiscretion Etienne would not be the chateau and if he had not ridden in fury through Lap Leon would have been trying to grub a living out of earth and often going to bed hungry. Isn’t that a com for thought?”
“Your philosophy is a lesson to us all, Margot.” I pleased to see her in such good spirits, but talking of chateau had tired her and I insisted that she drink her time milk and talk no more that night.
II
At the beginning of August Madame Legere moved in. She occupied a small room close to Margot’s and her coming reminded both Margot and me vividly that the interlude was nearing its end. I think neither of us wanted it to be over. This was a strange feeling but these waiting months had been important to us both. We had, as was to be expected, grown closer together; and I think she was pleased, as I was, that when this was over we were not going to part. How she would react to giving up her baby I could not imagine, for as its birth became imminent she had taken a great interest in it and I was afraid was beginning to be stirred by maternal love. It was natural enough, but since she was to give up the child, rather sad.
During those waiting months I had looked back over the past and yearned to be able to talk of the future with my mother. When I contemplated what my life would have been if I had stayed in the schoolhouse I could feel no regret for what I had done. I could see myself becoming more and more uneasy and perhaps in desperation turning to the Mansers and marrying Jim. At the same time I felt I had plunged into a dark passage and was heading towards a future which I could not envisage. Adventure lay before me-the chateau, the Comte and his unusual household. I could only look forward to that with a tingling excitement while I was glad of the waiting period.
Madame Legere had taken Margot over completely. She was always with her and even when we endeavoured to be alone for a brief respite it would not be long before the plump little creature would come bustling in wanting to know what “Petit Maman was doing.
“Petit Maman’ was amused at first by the appellation but after a few days she declared she would scream if Madame Legere did not stop it.
But Madame Legere went her own way. She made it clear that she was in charge, for if she were not how could we be sure that Baby would make an easy entrance into the world and “Petit Maman’ come through without disaster?
It was obvious that we had to endure Madame Legere.
She liked a glass of brandy and kept a bottle handy. I;l suspected she had frequent nips, but as she was never the, worse for it, that seemed nothing to worry about. “If I had as many bottles of brandy as I’ve brought babies into the world,” she said, “I’d be a rich woman.”
“Or a wine merchant or a dipsomaniac,” I could not help adding, ‘y She was unsure of me. I had heard her refer to me as The English Cousin’ as though I were an enemy. I would sit in my room sometimes trying to read but l could always hear Madame Legere’s penetrating voice, ant having by this time grown accustomed to the accent of the neighbourhood I could follow conversations with ease. g Jeanne was always in attendance and she and Madam Legere vied with each other in talking, although Madame Legere was very often the winner, in view, I imagined, of her superior position in the household. I told Margot that she should send them away but she said their chatter amuse<U her. lilt was a hot afternoon. August was drawing near to its end. It could not be long now. I was constantly trying to? remember what had been happening this time last year. Now started to imagine what would be taking place a year hence. Hazy pictures filled my mind . the great chateau, the wid stone staircase leading to the family’s apartments, the housed hold, Margot, Etienne, Leon, the Comte. I I was pulled up sharply in my reverie by tfae rather shrill tones of Madame Legere. U “I’ve had some queer cases in my time. There’s some, you know, that’s quite secret. Ladies and gentlemen … ha! hajig Don’t tell me they’re all they’re made out to be. They’re fond of a bit of love, now and then … and not always in the righ’ quarters, I can tell you. All’s well and good as long as there’ no consequences. But should I complain of consequences? It’s these little consequences that make good business for me, bless ‘em. And the more scandalous the better the business. I” been paid very well for some of my jobs, I can tell you. had one lady once … oh, very important she was … but wrapped up in secret. I wouldn’t like to tell you who she but I can guess.”
“Oh Madame Legere,” squealed Jeanne.
“Do tell.”
“If I was to tell I’d be breaking my trust, wouldn’t I? It was to keep secrets that I got my little nest-egg together … as well as for bringing the little darlings into the world. It wasn’t an easy birth, that one … not the sort I like. But of course I was there and I used to say to her: ” You’ll be all right. Petit Maman, with old Legere beside you. ” That was a comfort to her, that was. Well, when the baby was born, a carriage comes and there’s a woman in it who takes the child. Poor Petit Maman, she nearly died. Would have, if I hadn’t been there to take care of her. Then I had my orders. Tell her the baby died, and that was what she was told. She was heartbroken, but I reckon it was better that way.”
“And what happened to the baby?” asked Margot.
“You needn’t have any fear about that. It was well cared for, you can be sure. There was money, you see. Lots of it. And all they wanted was for Petit Maman to be sent back to them, slender as a virgin, which was what she would have to pass herself off to be.”
“Did she believe the baby was dead?” asked Jeanne.
“She believed it. I reckon she’s a great lady now, married to a rich lord of a husband, with lots of children running about the grand house only she wouldn’t see much of them. They’d be with nurses.”
“It doesn’t seem right,” said Jeanne.
“Of course it’s not right but it’s what is. ” But I would like to know what happened to the baby,” put in Margot.
“You set your mind at rest on that,” replied Madame Legere soothingly.
“Babies born like this are always put in good households. After all, they’ve got this blue blood in them and these aristocrats think a lot of that sort of blood.”
“Their blood’s no different from ours,” said Jeanne.
“My Gaston says that one day the people will have proof of that.”
“You’d better not let Madame Gremond hear you talk like that,” warned Madame Legere.
“Oh no. She thinks she’s one of them. But the time will come when she will have to show whose side she’s on.”