As we spent a great deal of time in the chateau precincts I saw more of Leon and Etienne than previously. They both had their duties about the estate and even they did not ride out singly.
It was interesting to talk to them and gather their attitudes towards the situation. Etienne was of the opinion that the old regime could not be shaken. He had the utmost contempt for what he called ‘the rabble’. The army would be called out, he said, if they attempted to rise, and the army was firmly behind the King. Leon was of the opposite opinion.
They would sit over the table long after a meal was finished, arguing together.
“At the moment the army is with the King,” said Leon, ‘but it could turn and once it did that would be the end. “
“Nonsense,” said Etienne.
“In the first place the army would never be disloyal and even if it were, power and money is with the nobility.”
“You haven’t moved with the times,” retorted Leon.
“I tell you that at the Palais Royalethe Due d’Orleans has been j spreading sedition. He has been giving every encouragement to agitators.
Everywhere you go they are screaming for Liberty, Equality and Fraternity. They are murmuring against the Queen and even against the King. Etienne, you shut your ears. “
“And you are always mingling with the peasants, and attach too much importance to them.”
“I believe I give them the importance they deserve.”
So they argued and I listened and thus began to get a certain grasp of the situation. That each day it was becoming more dangerous I had no doubt and I wondered constantly what was happening to the Comte in Paris.
Etienne said to me one day: “My mother very much wishes that you would call on her one day. She has asked me to invite you. She has acquired a piece of porcelain … a rather fine vase which is said to be English. She would very much like to have your opinion of it.”
“I am not an expert on porcelain, I’m afraid.”
“Nevertheless, she would like you to see it. May I take you over there tomorrow?”
“Yes, that would be pleasant.”
The next day I was ready at the appointed time. It was about three-thirty when we set out.
Etienne said: “It is better to take the path I showed you. I believe I told you that the Comte had it made years ago. He could visit the house easily then. It has become a little overgrown. It’s rarely used now.”
He was right. It was overgrown. The branches met in several places over the path and the undergrowth was thick now that the summer was with us.
Gabrielle was waiting.
It is so good of you to come,” she said.
“I am so anxious to show you my acquisition. But first we will take Ie the. I know how you English love it.”
She took me into the elegant room where I had sat with her on another occasion. While we drank tea she asked me if I had enjoyed my trip to I told her that I had found it most interesting.
“And did you notice how we are imitating the English?”
“I noticed a great deal that was English in the shops and how so many proclaimed that they spoke the language.”
“Ah yes, everyone is taking Ie the now. It must be gratifying to you.
Mademoiselle, to know that you are such a success in our country. “
“I think it is just a fashion.”
“We are a fickle people, you think?”
“Fashions come and go with us all, do they not?”
“It is like a man with his mistress. They come and go. The wise ones realize that there is generally nothing permanent. The favourite of today can be the discarded of tomorrow. Is the tea to your taste?”
I assured her that it was.
“Do try one of these little cakes. Etienne loves them. He eats far too many. I am very lucky to have my son visit me so often. My brother comes too. We are a closely knit family. I am a lucky woman. Although I could not marry the Comte, at least I did not lose my son. When the relationship is not so close men are inclined to bring their illegitimate children up in secrecy. I think that must be rather distressing for the poor mother, don’t you?”
I felt my colour rising. She had heard the rumour obviously and was she suggesting that I was the unmarried mother of the Comte’s son?
“One can imagine without experiencing it that it must be upsetting for the mother,” I said coolly.
“But then I suppose it would be said that it is a contingency which, had she been wise, she would have considered before she put herself into that unfortunate position.”
“All women are not as far-seeing, are they?”
“Evidently not. I am looking forward to seeing your vase.”
“Yes, and I to showing you.”
She seemed to linger over tea and I noticed that on several occasions she glanced at the clock in the shape of the chateau which, on our previous meeting, she had told me was a present from the Comte. I believed she did so now to remind me of his fondness for her.
She chattered a great deal about Paris, a city which she clearly loved, and as I had been enchanted by it and felt my visit there had been far too brief, I listened with interest.
She told me that I should have visited Les Halles to see the real Paris and she certainly had vivid powers of description. She made me see the great circular space with the six streets leading to it-and all the stalls piled with produce. Then she told me how second-hand clothes were sold from stalls on Mondays on the Place de Greve. It was called the Fair of the Holy Ghost, for what reason she had no idea.
“Oh it is amusing to see the women turning over the garmeats and snatching them from one another,” she said.
“Skirts, bodices, petticoats, hats … they are all there in piles. The women try on the clothes in public which causes a great deal of noise and amusement.”
So she went on chattering of Paris and in due course she sent for the vase. It was beautiful a deep shade of blue etched with white figures. I told her I believed it was Wedgewood. She was very proud of it. She said it was a gift from someone who knew how she enjoyed things that were English and I wondered whether she was hinting that the donor was the Comte.
When I said I must go she delayed me with more chatter and I came to the conclusion that she was not only a jealous woman but a garrulous one.
She became momentarily serious.
“Ah,” she said, ‘when one is young . inexperienced, one believes all one is told. One has to learn not to attach too much importance to the protestations of a lover. He has one object in mind generally. But I have my son. Mademoiselle, and he is a great comfort to me. “
“I am sure he must be,” I said.
She was smiling at me.
“I know you. Mademoiselle, will understand.”
Her look was almost conspiratorial. I had a very uneasy feeling that she knew of Chariot’s existence and was she really under the impression that he was my son?
“I feel I can really talk to you,” she went on, “I know how perceptive you would be. There has always been an understanding between the Comte and myself. You do believe me?”
“Of course, since you tell me so and naturally, in the circumstances there would be.”
She added: “When our son was born, he was so proud. He has always been so fond of Etienne. The resemblance is strong, don’t you agree? He wishes that he had defied opposition in the first place and married me. He always wanted a male heir. What a tragedy if the title and estates went to a distant cousin. He would never allow that. It was understood between us that if the opportunity arose we would marry.”
“You mean,” I said coldly, ‘if the Comtesse died. “
She lowered her eyes and nodded.
“If she did not, then Etienne would be legitimized. Of course it would be easier if we married. And now she is dead and … it is only a matter of time.”