I liked to see the way in which the city came alive as it did each morning at seven o’clock when the clerks, neatly dressed, would be going to work, and one or two gardeners could be seen wheeling their barrows into the markets. Gradually the town would put on its bustling and exciting vitality. I told Margot it reminded me of the dawn chorus of the birds. A little stirring, then a little more and so on, adding up to the full song.
She was a little impatient of my enthusiasm. After all, she had known Paris for so long and as with many things that are familiar one ceases to be aware of them.
But how thrilling it was to see the various trades waking up to the day. The barbers, covered in flour with which they powdered the wigs, the lemonade shops opening their doors while the waiters came out with their trays of hot coffee and rolls to be served to those in the surrounding houses who had ordered them the night before. Later members of the legal profession appeared like black crows in their flapping robes on their way to the Chatelet and the other courts.
Dinner was at three o’clock in fashionable circles and it amused me to see the dandies and the ladies-some in carriages but some on foot-picking their careful way through the mud on their way to their hosts. Then the streets were! full of noise and clamour which died down during the dinner! interval to awaken again about five o’clock when the leisured i crowd was making its way to the playhouses or the pleasure gardens.
I wanted to see everything, which Margot thought very I childish. She did not know that the need to overlay my I anxiety about what might be happening back at the chateau i was at the heart of my determination to learn all I could :
about this stimulating, wonderful city.
Looking back, how glad I was that I saw it then. It was never to be quite the same again.
We shopped. What an array of good things there were in,-‘ those shops!
Their windows were dazzling. Gowns, ready;
made, materials for sale, mantles, pelisses, muffs, ribbons,
laces. They were a joy to behold. The hats were perhaps the ;
most striking of all. Following the fashions set by the Queen, they were both extravagant and outrageous. Rose Bertin, i her dressmaker, made for a few favoured people. She graciously consented to make something for the daughter of the Comte Fontaine Delibes.
“I should go to someone who is more eager to serve you,” I said.
“You don’t understand, Minelle. It means something to be dressed by Rose Bertin.”
So we went to her for Margot’s fitting. She kept us waiting for an hour and then sent a message to the effect that we must return next day.
As we came out I noticed a little group of people standing on the corner. They muttered and watched us sullenly as we got into the carriage.
Yes, Paris was certainly an uneasy city. But I was too bemused by its beauty and too stunned by what had happened at the chateau to notice as I otherwise would-and Margot’s thoughts were elsewhere.
I was gratified to see that England appeared to be held in great respect. It was as Gabrielle LeGrand had said. The shops were full of clothes proclaiming to be made of English cloth. Signs announced that English was spoken within, in the windows of the shops was written Le Punch Anglais, and in all the cafes it was possible to take lethe.
Even the tall vehicles were called whiskies and an imitation of those used in England.
I was amused and I must say somewhat flattered. And in the shops I made no attempt to disguise the fact that, like so many of their products, I came from across the Channel.
We were buying some beautiful satin one day which was to be made into a dress for Margot’s trousseau when the man who was serving us leaned across the counter and looking at me earnestly said: “Mademoiselle is from England?”
I agreed that this was so.
“Mademoiselle should go home,” he said.
“Lose no time.”
I looked at him in surprise and he went on: “Any day the storm will break. Today, tomorrow, next week, next year. And when it comes none will be spared. You should go while there is time.”
Cold fear touched me then. There had been so many pointers, I could see that everyone around me was trying not to see them but there had to be uncomfortable moments when they could not be avoided.
This was indeed a waiting city.
We walked out into the sunshine and our steps led us to the Cour du Mai. I could not forget the shop man warning; and as I walked it seemed to me that a terrible foreboding of the future came to me.
I was to remember it there in the Cour du Mai later on.
Margot came to my room. There was a sparkle in her eyes and she was very flushed.
“It’s all arranged,” she said.
“We are going to see Yvette.”
“Who is Yvette?”
“Don’t be deliberately obstructive, Minelle. I have told you about Yvette. She used to work with Nou-Nou in the nursery. She lives in the country-not so very far from where I lost Chariot.”
“My dear Margot, you are not still thinking of looking for him.”
“Of course I am. Do you think I would let him go and never know what has happened to him? I must content myself that he is well and happy . and not missing me.”
“As he was only a few weeks old when you parted from him, he could hardly be expected to know you.”
“Of course he’ll know me. I’m his mother.”
“Oh Margot, you must not be so foolish. You must put i unfortunate episode behind you. You have been lucky. Yo have a fiance whom you like very well. He will be kind a good to you.”
“Oh, don’t set yourself up as an oracle. You’re not t schoolmistress now, you know. You promised we would to find him. Are you a breaker of promises?”
I was silent. It was true I had promised when I though! she was on the verge of hysteria, but I had never really taken the plan seriously. “I have it all worked out,” she explained.
“I shall go to vis iA my old nurse Yvette. I want to tell her that I am betrothed to Robert. Mimi and Bessell will accompany us, and we shall take the carriage. We shall stay at inns and travel aj little each day and as we are going back to that neighbourhood I shall become Madame Ie Brun. It will be a sort of’l masquerade. I have told Mimi that it is better not to travel as my father’s daughter because of the recent scandal about) my mother’s death and the mood of the people. She is pleased;;
She thinks that will be safe. Why don’t you say something? ? You just sit there looking disapproving. I think it’s a wonderful plan. “
“I only hope you don’t do anything foolish.”
“Why do you always think I am going to do something foolish?” she demanded.
“Because you often do,” I retaliated.
But I could see that she was really set on the plan and there was no withholding her.
Perhaps, I thought, it is not such a bad idea, for if she-saw for herself that her child was well cared for she might cease to fret about him. But how could we hope to find him?
She had decided that we should make our way to Petit Montlys but we should not of course call on Madame Gremond. Even she realized what folly that would be.
“What we must do,” she said, ‘is to find the inn where we stayed when Chariot was taken from us and make enquiries in that area. “
I said: “It’s a wild goose chase.”
“Wild geese are sometimes caught,” she retorted.