Chapter 9 A Girl of High Adventure by L. T. Meade
THE ENGLISH GIRLS AT THE SCHOOL OF LA PRINCESSE
Margot was the sort of girl who invariably and without any doubt kept her word, but, being of that somewhat rare species, she expected those about her to keep their words also. Accordingly Madame la Comtesse was forced to send la petite Comtesse St. Juste to her friend la Princesse de Fleury, having made arrangements beforehand with that good woman, that the child should go to her every day for déjeuner. After that she was to devote herself to the learning of French and that music which charms even the savage breast.
Little Margot was satisfied with this arrangement, and her grandfather, M. le Comte, little guessed that she was not at school all day long, but devoted the early hours of her day to selling hats innumerable for Madame la Comtesse.
Little Margot kept her word to the letter. She had a real taste for millinery, acquired no one quite knew how, and it soon became the rage in the établissement that M'selle la petite Comtesse should serve the customers, for had she not the taste magnifique! At school, too, little Margot was perfectly happy. Her morning hours were hours of duty rather than pleasure, but the rest of her days were full of pleasure. She delighted beyond anything in acquiring knowledge, and very soon discovered to her intense delight that there were several English girls at the school of la Princesse de Fleury.
There was, in particular, Lady Dorothy Duncan. She was living with a French uncle at Arles and went every day to the school of la Princesse. She was a fair, pretty, thoroughly English girl, and, although she was quite three years older than the little Comtesse, she took to the child with the dark bright eyes at once. The child, in her turn, took to Lady Dorothy. She was allowed for the good of her manners, according to la Princesse, to speak English with Lady Dorothy, and many beyond ordinary words were the confidences that each young girl made to the other.
Margot grew tall and graceful for her age; Dorothy was small and very slim. Things went on well both at the school and at the établissement, until one day Dorothy Duncan invited her most favoured friend to lunch in the château of mon oncle.
"Is it very, very French?" asked little Margot.
"Oh, no, not any more than anything else here," said Dorothy. "You will enjoy it and you must come. As for me, I am overcome with raptures. My eldest sister—she is just seventeen—has come to us all the way from Rome. She will soon he likely to meet someone whom she can marry. She will be absorbed in getting her trousseau, partly from Paris and partly from that great établissement here, kept by Madame Marcelle!" Margot felt herself colouring slightly.
"What is your sister like to look at, Dorothy?" she asked.
"Behold, understand!" exclaimed Dorothy, putting on all the French manners she could acquire. "I think that some day I shall be beautiful but not like Hébé. Hébé is almost as beautiful as you, ma petite Comtesse, only of course she is very much older. They say that the establishment of Ninon Lecoles cannot be beaten even in Paris, that city of all the delights. She has sold it now to Madame Marcelle. Ah, but my sister will make a grand marriage and l'oncle Gustave will give her a dot worthy of her."
"I am to have a dot, too," said little Margot, "but, behold, I care not for it! It is—it is less than of no use at all. What I want is to have my heart brimful of love."
"Eh, but you are a darling," said Lady Dorothy. "I know you will love my sister."
"I am sure I shall," said little Margot. "Go on, describe her to me, Dorothy."
"We are very proud in England," began Dorothy, "very proud indeed. Ah, but our pride is immense. It is like a mushroom, standing up higher than our heads and the top of it covering us and shutting out the world. Of all my sisters there is none so proud as Hébé, and l'oncle Gustave says she will make a very great marriage indeed. She is like me, but she has dark eyes, whereas mine are blue like bits of sky, n'est-ce pas?"
Margot made no reply.
"When am I going to see your sister, Dorothy?"
"Shall we arrange for to-morrow? You may perhaps see one of the many prétendants to her hand. Not that she looks at them. Ah non, non. She abides her time. There is one called Maurice de Croix. He is a man of the world with an air superb and distinguished, but my sister, she will not regard him. But there, I must not speak any more on such matters. There is, peut-être one in England. I guess—but I dare not say. You will come to-morrow, little Margot, straight from school and be introduced to ma belle soeur."
Margot gave a little sigh, said that she must ask grandpère, and would let her friend know the following day.
Grandpère was highly pleased that his little cabbage should have tea in the true French style with le pauvre Gustave.
"He was once a very great man," said grandpère, "but he lived through his fortune and now—now he subsists on his pride. It is a great possession, the pride, ma très belle Margot, but it produces the hunger. I took care to do otherwise. I married my Ninon and since then, behold, I live in luxury, and can give thee a glorious dot, ma petite!"
While Margot and her grandfather were talking, Madame la Comtesse entered the room. She was dressed in a pale shade of green with quantities of sequins of the same colour arranged on the front of her dress. Her little collar was of the best Honiton lace. Her dress was short, coming barely to her ankles. She wore open-work silk stockings of the same shade and little green kid shoes en suite. She looked very charming and young, and no one could tell from her appearance what her age could possibly be.
She rushed up now to "mon Alphonse," arranged his down pillows, settled his soft rug of crimson plush and said, "Ah, behold, art thou not full of comfort, my adored one? And what has la petite been saying to thee?"
"Good news, my Ninon," replied grandpère. "Gustave, the present Marquis de Serrègnon, wants this bébé to have tea with his nieces Hébé and Dorothy to-morrow evening. Ah, but I fear the food will be poor, but the Marquis is the Marquis, and we must not despise him. This little Margot, this chère petite, loves dearly his English niece, Lady Dorothy Duncan, but it is the sister whom Lady Dorothy wishes her to meet."
A cloud, very imperceptible, but undoubtedly there, swept over the face of Madame la Comtesse.
"All shall be as thou dost wish, my most adorable Alphonse," she remarked, and she kissed the old man first on the hand, then on the brow, then on each cheek and then, by an almost imperceptible wave of her own small white hand, motioned Margot to follow her out of the room.
"Answer me, and answer me truly, mon enfant," she said. "Hast thou seen the Lady Hébé Duncan in my établissement? Hast thou perchance served her, ma petite?"
"I have seen her and I have served her," said Margot. "I helped her to choose chapeaux yesterday."
"Then she will know thee again when thou dost go to that place of desolation where le Marquis de Serrègnon lives."
"Yes, ma grand'mère," replied Margot, looking full into the face of the little shop-keeper.
"And yet thou must go," said Madame. "It would offend thy grandpère else. It does not do to offend the old. Tiens! The heart beats too slow, it must not receive the shock, n'est-ce pas?"
"I never wanted to serve in your shop, grand'mère," exclaimed little Margot.
"Ah, but silence, my little beautiful! We have to make the francs to secure the proper dot for thee, mon enfant. Now, let me consider. Thou wilt not go to my établissement to-morrow, and I will dress thee different. I will not even send thee to the school of la Princesse, but I will myself take thee in my motor car to the château of the Marquis. There I will dispose of thee for one short hour. During that hour thou must play the rôle of la malade. Thou must appear worn and pale and ill. Ah, but I am clever enough to manage, and behold assuredly it shall be done. Thou shalt wear the dress of la malade, and thou must speak low and soft and refuse the food which is offered to thee and which in truth is not worth thy accepting. Now see, behold, be guided by me, thy belle grand'mère, and mon Alphonse will guess nothing."
Little Margot, not being in the least disturbed or annoyed, readily agreed. She returned to sit with her grandfather and kept him in fits of laughter with accounts of her schoolfellows. Meanwhile, Madame was very busy. She wrote two letters, one to the Marquis de Serrègnon, the other to la Princesse, and she kept Margot away from the shop that day. Margot was undoubtedly making the said shop pay, but that did not matter at all, if only the adorable Alphonse was kept composed and happy in his mind.
When the hour approached for little Margot to visit the Duncans in the tumble-down old château, she was dressed very carefully by her grand'mère. In some curious manner the natural colour seemed to depart from her rosy cheeks, her eyes, so dark and brilliant, looked a trifle dull. She wore her school frock of course, but taking her all round, she had a sort of extinguished appearance.
Madame la Comtesse taught her carefully what she had to say.
"'I have mal à la tête,' Thou wilt not say more; thou wilt not say less. The Marquis will be scared for fear thou dost carry the infection. Oh, la, la! It is a good idea, and they will not think of the bright little Comtesse when they see the sad looking malade who cannot eat or say much. Thou must keep all the particulars about the établissement close to thy breast. Thou must not allude to Madame Marcelle. Thou wilt go to her to-morrow morning again as arranged and, behold, I will have refreshments the most enticing for thee on thy return to-day! Now then, my Ma'm'selle, come along! The Lady Hébé will not notice the drooping child, who served her with so many chapeaux and at so great a price. See now, thou wilt he thy old self to-morrow and no one will ever guess our little strategy."
Accordingly Margot, accompanied by grand'mère, arrived at the ancient castle of the Marquis de Serrègnon. Dorothy rushed out to meet her. Margot scrambled weakly out of the motor car, which was closed and which was to call for her again in an hour and a half.
Margot felt terribly inclined to laugh. She longed to say "I am a little shopwoman and this is all nonsense," but if she did so, according to grand'mère, she would destroy the life of that adorable one, Alphonse St. Juste. Accordingly she went languidly into the house and when Dorothy asked her in some surprise what ailed her and why she looked so white and good-for-nothing, Margot said in a voice très douce,
"I have mal à la tête, Dorothy."
"Ah, but what a pity that is," said Dorothy, "and we are all so gay, so very, very gay. A whole lot of chapeaux have been sent to us from Madame Marcelle—for Hébé, of course. I have told Hébé that you are beautiful, Comtesse, but you don't look beautiful to-day."
"It is mal à la tête," repeated Margot, trying to make her voice sound as weary as possible.
"Ah, pauvre petite," said Lady Dorothy. "You must lie on the sofa in this salon. Mon oncle Gustave will not come in, because we will ask him not, but you must see Hébé, for I long much to know your opinion of her."
Hébé Duncan at that moment bounded into the room. There was nothing whatever French about her. She was a laughing, highly coloured, rollicking English girl. Her age might have been eighteen—it might have been more, it might have been less. She stared hard for a minute out of her bright eyes at the little Comtesse and then said, "Oh, la, la!" and afterwards went off into fits of laughter.
The little Comtesse murmured, "It is la mal à la tête."
Dorothy put soft cushions under the head that did not ache and a rug over the little feet that pined to scamper about. As soon as ever she had done this, Hébé pulled her out of the room.
Then began a violent conversation on the wide landing outside the Marquis' salon.
Dorothy said, "Impossible!"
Hébé said, "It is true, a certainty!"
Then she re-appeared holding several huge bandboxes in her hands.
"I bought these," she said, "from a très petite Comtesse at the établissement of la Madame Marcelle. Would you like to look at them?"
"No," said Margot, and she suddenly began to cry. "I hate établissements, I hate deceit. I have not got mal à la tête. Is there any cold water near?"
Lady Dorothy stared and Lady Hébé frowned. But Margot was only thinking of Uncle Jacko, dear Uncle Jacko, and of grand-dad The Desmond.
"Take me where I can find some water, some icy cold water, please," she said to Dorothy.
Dorothy obeyed in a sort of bewilderment. She took Margot to her own room and soon the whitening process was removed from the little cheeks and the brilliant and lovely colour returned. Margot's eyes sparkled as of old.
"Now you look like yourself," said Dorothy. "You have no mal à la tête."
"None, none, none," cried Margot. "Never had."
"Ah, but how strange," said Lady Dorothy.
"But never mind. Hébé will soon love you. Behold, Hébé, behold! This is my little friend."
"And my little shop-keeper," said Hébé in an angry voice.
Margot's big eyes blazed with a kind of fury.
"And are you really, really going to tell the Marquis?" said the child, her eyes blazing. "Take your chapeaux then, here, and here, and here. I have repented of my lie—I have confessed to you both—but—but——"
She pulled the hats out of their bandboxes and flung them in Hébé's face.
"Now I despise you," she said. "I did what I did to help ma belle grand'mère and she keeps M. le Comte in all luxury and does everything for me. No, I don't want your tea; I don't want your gâteaux. I am not ashamed of helping ma belle grand'mère. I help her a little, and she helps me much, but I will never choose a hat for you again. Understand! You can go to Madame Marcelle and you can spread the news, if you like, that I help a little one who helps me much. Behold, our château! It is neat, it is clean, it is white. It is full of things most beautiful and mon grandpère eats of the best and lives in the best style and he is happy. I will go on helping ma belle grand'mère and you can do as you please, but I will never choose a hat for you, Lady Hébé. See, I am off home now. I can easily get back to my comfortable home."
"Oh, but no, Margot, no," exclaimed Dorothy. "Do not be so silly."
"I will not be silly, I will be wise," said Margot. "This is worse than being young-old and old-young. Good-bye, for the present, I do not choose to be a guest and be looked down on. It is not the Irish way, and I did not think until now that it was the French way."
She wrapped her pretty little coat round her shoulders and marched down the avenue with the air of a small duchess.
Nevertheless when Margot got back, which she did before the motor-car had time to call for her, she was met by a singularly discontented belle grand'mère.
"Why, my pretty, why dost thou come so soon?" she exclaimed.
"Because I couldn't act a lie, grand'mère, and I had to tell the truth, grand'mère," said Margot. "The Lady Hébé is no lady. She calls herself one, but she is not, and I will never, never sell her another hat."
"Ah, ma petite, what mischief hast thou done!" said la grand'mère.
"I care not, I care not at all," said little Margot. "I will not act the lie even for thee, grand'mère. I wish that thou wouldst let me go no more to the shop."
"Ah, but thou must—thou art the fortune of the établissement, ma petite," said grand'mère. "And think what fun it will be selling chapeaux to others and never to the proud Comtesse. We will get someone else for her and thou needst not serve her."
"Très bien," answered little Margot and she entered her grandfather's presence with a toss of her pretty head.
But the next day at school things did not go so well with the little Comtesse. It was quite evident that much as Dorothy had admired her the day before, Hébé had brought her round to the impossibility of having anything to do with a girl who sold hats at a shop. Dorothy not only came round to Hébé's view of the question, but she enlightened her school-fellows with the true status of the little Comtesse.
"She's all a sham," said Dorothy. "I won't speak to her any more, no, not me!"
Margot was beginning to get rather fond of Dorothy, but she took her English friend's desertion very coolly. She thought out matters in her acute little brain. She let the French girls alone, but there were, including herself and Dorothy, sixteen English girls in the school. These girls were all very much about the same age as Margot. She got them into one of the very small salons, which abounded in the old palace, now converted into a school. They all looked askance at her, but it was difficult to keep from smiling back into those smiling and beautiful dark eyes and it was still more difficult to resist the dimples that played round the lips and cheeks of the little Comtesse.
"See, behold, listen!" she exclaimed. "Dorothy Duncan does not like me because I help Madame Marcelle in her magasin. She pretends I am not a lady—that is not true. I am a lady and my Irish grandfather has a title higher up than the stars. What do we think of Comtes in Ireland when we have 'The's' of the most ancient! Ma belle grand'mère has asked me to help Madame Marcelle a little bit. Ma belle grand'mère does great things for me and for mon bon grandpère. She is a woman oh, of the noblest, and there is not a château greater or better than ours at Arles. Now, behold, listen! What sort of château does the Marquis keep? Is it tidy, is it neat? Are there good things to eat therein? I guess not. Now, if you English girls will take my part I will take you to the établissement of Madame Marcelle and get you a hat each at cost price. You will have to pay ever so much less than the Lady Hébé paid when I flung her chapeaux back into her face."
"Ah, but didst thou, indeed, little one?" said Agnes Martin.
Jane Raynor burst into a fit of laughter. All the English girls with the exception of Dorothy were brought over to Margot in a body and on the following morning she had a tremendous sale of hats, which she gave by Madame la Comtesse's express wish to the bevy of English schoolgirls.
She chose the hats with great care and exquisite taste. Having done this, she went back to la belle grand'mère and told her that she did not wish to continue at the school with Lady Dorothy.
"I like those who are faithful," said Margot. "She is not faithful and I will have none of her. I will attend in the shop every morning, ma grandmère, and you and grandpère can teach me in the afternoon until the happy, happy day when I return to Ireland."
"And dost thou wish to leave us, ma petite?" asked the Comtesse.
"Ah, oui, oui, The Desmond is so very noble," said little Margot.
"Thou must abide with us thy full time. Thou canst not leave until September," said la Comtesse.
Tears filled the little Comtesse's black eyes.
"I know," she said, "I know. Uncle Jacko will call for me on that day. Ah, but my heart will rejoice, it will sing! But indeed thou art kind, ma belle Comtesse, and so is grandpère, but thou hast never seen The Desmond. I will go to him for three months and come back again to thee and will serve for a little time each day in the shop, and hearken, Comtesse, thou wilt get me masters and mistresses next time, for I must learn—yes, I must learn! I will not be an ignorant Comtesse of France, and nothing will persuade me to disgrace The Desmond of Desmondstown."