The Visits of Elizabeth Part 5

The Frascati beds were comfortable, and I could not wake in the morning, in spite of Agnes fussing about. The Vicomte has awakened every one each day by rapping at their doors, but this morning I was at last aroused by Heloise, who had the next room, and we had our coffee together. She says she does hope soon to get Victorine married, and that they have a nephew of the Baronne's in view, but he has not seen her yet. It appears it is easier to get them off if they are quiet looking and dowdy, but not so aggressive as Victorine. You haven't much chance if you are very pretty and lively; as she says, the men only like you to be that when you are married to some one else. Heloise wishes to have everything smart as the Tournelles have, but G.o.dmamma and Victorine are always against her. She says life there is for ever eating _galette de plomp_, which I suppose means a suet pudding feeling. We all went to High Ma.s.s at eleven; it was very pretty, and such a good-looking priest handed the bag. I should hate to be a priest; shouldn't you, Mamma? You mayn't even look at any one nice.

We breakfasted at Frascati, but we were a little bit gloomy at our trip being over. This afternoon they have nearly all gone for a drive in hired motor cars, but I haven't a hat here that would stay on, so I am writing to you instead, and we cross over to Trouville at five o'clock in the ordinary boat, as it is too rough for the _Sauterelle_.--Good-bye, dear Mamma, your affectionate daughter, Elizabeth.

[Sidenote: _A Full-blown Bride_]

_P.S._--I forgot to tell you the story of the "_Cote des deux Amants._" You know the fearfully straight, steep hill we have often noticed from the train if you go to Paris from Dieppe. Well, Hippolyte told us the story when we pa.s.sed it. It is quite close from the river, and looks as if it had been cut with a knife, it is so steep. It appears that in the Middle Ages there was a castle on the top, and there lived a Comte who had a tremendously stout daughter. He said no one should have her and her fortune unless he was strong enough to carry her from the bottom to the top of the hill. Hundreds tried--it was a beauty then to be fat--but every one dropped her half-way, and the poor thing got "tres fatiguee d'etre plantee comme ca," when a handsome cavalier came along, and he succeeded. His snorts of out-of-breathness could be heard for miles, but he got her to the top and then fell dead at her feet; and she went into a convent and died.

Hippolyte said also that the other ending of the story was, that she got so thin from pining for the knight that the next one who came along had no difficulty, and so they married and lived happy ever after. But I like the tragic end best. And he said that the peasants still declare they can hear the knight wheezing on moonlight nights, but "Antoine"

said it was probably a traction engine. And I don't think it nice of him; do you, Mamma?

CHaTEAU DE CROIXMARE

Chateau de Croixmare,

_24th August_.

Dearest Mamma,--I am quite sure I shall never be able to stand the whole fortnight more here. We got back on Monday evening, and G.o.dmamma was as disagreeable as could be. She said all sorts of spiteful things about the Tournelles, and especially the Baronne; and Jean looked nervous and uncomfortable, and Heloise like a mule; and Victorine said I had no doubt enjoyed myself, but for her part she would be sorry to be taken for a "young married woman," which was what Madame de Visac (a woman who came to call after we left) had said--"Qui est cette jeune femme avec votre belle soeur?"

[Sidenote: _Modest Maidens_]

She had seen us embarking. So I said I was flattered, as that seemed to mean in France all that was attractive in contrast to the girls. Did you ever hear of such a _cat_, Mamma? and considering that I am only seventeen, and she is an old maid of twenty-two; I think it too ridiculous. She need not fear, no one would ever think she was married, she looks like a lumping German governess. Two of her girl friends came to breakfast yesterday, of course with their mothers, and you should have heard the idiot conversation we had! All plopped down on the great sofa in the big salon, like a row of dolls. The two friends were simply gasping with excitement at the idea of my having gone on the _Sauterelle_. They asked me endless questions, and giggled, and I _did_ tell them some things!

They asked also about England, and was it really true that when we went to a ball we stayed with our _danseurs_ till the next dance? I said I had not been to a ball yet, but had always heard that is what one did.

One of the friends is quite nice-looking, but with such dirty nails. It appears you don't wash much till you are married, it is not considered _bien vu_, in fact rather _lance_, and you can't have fine under-clothes, it has all got to be as unattractive as possible, and that shows you are as good as gold and will make a nice wife.

[Sidenote: _The Trouville Casino_]

But it must be a bother picking up a taste for having baths and things afterwards, if it isn't from instinct, don't you think so, Mamma? And I am glad I am not French. It is even eccentric if you sleep with your window open; Heloise screamed at me for that. They all a.s.sure me it gives sore eyes, besides encouraging an early grave. I said at last that in England we slept the whole summer in the open air. I was so exasperated, and they would believe anything.

Oh, I wish we were back on the _Sauterelle!_--which reminds me I have never told you anything about Trouville. The whole place was full of such beautiful ladies, and such nice clothes. They must all have been married, their things were so becoming. The Vicomte seemed to know them well, and they all spoke of them by their Christian names, such as, _Voila Blanche d'Antin!_ or _Emilie_ something else, as we pa.s.sed them, but none of our party bowed to the really pretty ones, which I thought very queer if they knew them well enough to speak of them by their Christian names. I remember you always told me never to do that--I mean to use people's first names in speaking of them if you are not acquainted with them--but evidently it is different here. The Tournelles and all the others did stop to speak to heaps of duller looking people, and every one tried to persuade us to stay and go to the races.

We went to the Casino in the evening and saw a piece; it was boring. We had two boxes, and they kept talking to me all the time, so I really could not pay much attention to the acting.

Down below us was the Marquise de Vermandoise's brother-in-law, with a rather dowdy little woman. They talked a great deal about him, and the Marquise said it was just like his economy to go to Trouville with such "une espece de pet.i.te f.a.gottee bon marche." So I suppose it was some poor relation he was treating, but they seemed very good friends, as he held her hand all the time, quite forgetting the people up above could see. Then we played "Pet.i.ts Chevaux," and I won every time; I do like it very much.

[Sidenote: _A Bathing Party_]

We came back to Vinant by the two o'clock train, but first we went to bathe. I was really annoyed at having to have a hired dress, a frightful thing, and weighing a ton. The Marquise and the others had brought theirs on the chance of our having time for a dip. The Baronne's and Heloise's were too sweet. The Baronne's cap had the same kind of lovely little curls round it that she wears at night; but she is a great coward, and hardly went in deeper than her ankles, in spite of all the entreaties of "Antoine" and the Vicomte. The Marquise de Vermandoise looks splendid in the water, just like a G.o.ddess, and her bathing-dress was thin enough red silk for us to see how beautifully she is made. The splashing about seemed to make her so gay, she kept putting her tongue into the gap where her tooth is gone, and looked so wicked they would all have swam anywhere after her. She and de Tournelle went out a long way to a boat, and they did seem to be having a good time. I wish I could swim like that.

Heloise and "Antoine" made _la planche_ together; it is simply floating, only you have some one to hold you up in case you float out too far. The Vicomte wanted to teach me, and as I was getting rather tired of pretending to swim with one leg down, I tried, and it feels lovely, and we did laugh so over it. At last the Baronne came out quite up to her knees to call to us "Tremors, c'est defendu de faire des betises." I suppose she thought he would let me drown.

Jean and the Comtesse de Tournelle watched us from the _plage_. The old Baron swims splendidly, and went quite out of sight. Hippolyte was waiting among the other servants with our _peignoirs_, and presently he clapped his hands to insure attention, and shouted, "Il ne faut pas que Madame la Baronne reste trop longtemps se mouillant les pieds, elle prendrait froid, mieux vaut sortir de l'eau!"

[Sidenote: _End of the Trip_]

I am glad my hair curls naturally, because I laughed so at the face of Hippolyte, gesticulating at the Baronne, that I did not pay attention to a wave, and it threw me over, and I went right under water. The Vicomte pulled me up, but there was no need of him to have been so long about it, and I told him so. He apologised, and said it was his fear that I should drown, but we were only up to our chests in water, so I don't believe it a bit. After that we came out, and it is just as well one has a _peignoir_ to put on immediately, as the bathing gowns are so tight and thin, when wet they look quite odd. There were hundreds of other people bathing too, and some of the dresses were so pretty. One was all black and very tight, with red dragons running over it, and she had a gold bangle on her ankle. I wish we could have stayed longer, it was so gay.

In the train coming back we played all sorts of games. Jean and the old Baron went "smoking," and we eight squashed into the same carriage, so as not to be separated. We had to go right up to Paris (as the express does not stop at Vinant), and then back again. One can just see the high roof of Croixmare from the train. Yesterday those tiresome girls came to _dejener_, and to-day we go to pay another visit of ceremony at the Tournelles', to thank them for our nice trip. I shall be glad to see them again after looking at G.o.dmamma for two whole days.

The evenings are awful. Although it is so warm no one thinks of walking in the garden, or even sitting out on the _perron_. When we come out from dinner, though it is broad daylight, every shutter is shut and curtains drawn, and there we sit in the salon, all arranged round in a semi-circle, and make conversation, and _sirop_ comes at nine, and, thank goodness, we get off to bed at ten! But even if you wanted to talk nicely to the person sitting by you you couldn't, because every one would at once stop what they were saying and listen. There is going to be an entertainment at the Tournelles' in about a week, a kind of _fete champetre_. We are to dine in a pavilion in the garden, and then have a _cotillon_.-Good-bye, dear Mamma, with love from your affectionate daughter, Elizabeth.

Chateau de Croixmare,

_25th August_.

[Sidenote: _Croixmare again_]

Dearest Mamma,--The longer I stay, here the more glad I am that I am not French! Victorine is going to be shown to her future _fiance_ to-day, but I must first tell you how it came about. We went to Chateau de Tournelle yesterday to pay our visit, G.o.dmamma, Victorine, and I in the victoria, and Jean and Heloise in the phaeton. They were in the garden playing tennis with a party of friends from Versailles, and among them, of course, the Vicomte and "Antoine." They were all so glad to see me, and the Baronne called me her "_chere pet.i.te_," and kissed me on both cheeks, as if we had been parted for months. The Vicomte--when he had done putting his heels together and bowing to Victorine and me, and kissing Heloise's and G.o.dmamma's hands--managed to get in, in a lower voice, that his ride from Versailles now seemed to him to have been very short. Upon which Victorine at once said, "_Comment?_" with the expression of a terrier whose ears are suddenly c.o.c.ked up on the alert. He bowed more deeply than ever, and said that he was saying it was a long ride from Versailles! So you see that Frenchmen are not truthful, Mamma! Well--then we were sent to look at the gardens, accompanied by Jean and the Cure.

[Sidenote: _An Untruthful Frenchman_]

The Comtesse "adores" _le tennis_, and plays very well, it quite animates her. The Baronne plays too, but she doesn't hit the ball much, and screams most of the time; she was in the middle of a game when we arrived, and only stopped to pay all kinds of civilities to our party.

Her pretty feet show when she runs about, but she wears a large black tulle hat with fluffy strings, and it does not seem very suitable for tennis. I had to walk with the old Cure when the path was not wide enough to trot all together. The gardens really are lovely, with all kinds of strange shrubs and trees, and _fontaines_ and _bosquets_, and nooks, but I don't see the least use in them if one has always to walk three in a row, if not more, do you, Mamma? The Cure was a charming old fellow, and explained all the plants to me. We had no sooner got back to the tennis ground than one felt something momentous was taking place between G.o.dmamma and the Baronne. She had finished her tennis, and they were sitting away from the others, nodding their heads together.

Victorine at once put on a conscious air, and minced more than usual.

"Antoine" and Heloise seemed speaking seriously, while she examined his new racket. The Vicomte had begun a game, so could not talk to us, but some more officers were introduced, and, after the usual bowing, we began to talk.

"Vous aimez le tennis, mademoiselle?"

"Oui, monsieur," from Victorine. "Moi, je le deteste," from me.

"Pas possible!" from every one.

"Je vous a.s.sure on ne joue que le croquet chez nous."

"Le croquet," from Victorine, "un jeu de Couvent!"

"Le croquet! Et les anglais qui n'aiment que l'exercice!" from the officers, &c., &c.

Very interesting, you see, one's conversations here!

[Sidenote: _A Marriage Arranged_]

All this time the Baronne and G.o.dmamma were nodding their heads, and when Jean and Heloise joined them, they looked like those sets of mandarins that used to be on Uncle Charles's mantelpiece, and as we said Good-bye, the Baronne said to G.o.dmamma, "Bien, chere madame, c'est entendu alors c'est pour demain."

All the way home in the carriage, Victorine simpered. I felt I could have slapped her.

In the evening there was an air of mystery about them all, and, quite unlike her usual custom, Heloise came into my room to chat when I was going to bed. Of course Agnes stayed as long as she could, but no sooner had we got rid of her, than Heloise told me what it was all about. It appears the Baronne has a nephew, who has made a heap of debts; he is a Marquis, and he wants to "redorer le blason." It is necessary for him to secure a large dot, but he is "si terriblement volage," that the extreme plainness of Victorine may put him off. The Baronne has been arranging it, and he is to be brought with his parent to breakfast, to sample her!

They have not seen one another yet, and it has been difficult to get him to face the situation seriously. Victorine has been dragging on so, that the family will be delighted to let her go, even to a less fortune than she has. "Ils devraient etre joliment contents, un gros paquet comme ca!" as Hippolyte, who knows every one's business, said to the Baronne's maid--Heloise told me--and that explains it; she said it would be such a _mercy_ if he will settle the affair at once. She had come to ask me a favour. I did wonder what it was! And you will laugh, Mamma, when you hear! Victorine is sure to be nervous, Heloise said, and in that case her face gets red, and it would be a pity to distract his attention in any way, and in short would I mind putting on my most unbecoming dress, and not speaking while the Marquis is here?

[Sidenote: _The Fiance Appears_]

So here I am, Mamma, writing to you up in my room, dressed in that horrid _beige_ linen that we chose at night, and I shan't go down till _dejener_ is ready, pouf! I can hear a carriage coming, I must go to the window. Yes, it is the _fiance_, accompanied by his mother and aunt. He is nice-looking, except that he has got a silly fair beard. I can hear them arriving in the hall; such a lot of talking!