Mademoiselle Dubreau showed us the rooms that had been alloted to us. There were to be four in a room. Lavinia and I were to share with a French girl whose name was Francoise and a German girl, Gerda.
Miss Ellmore had said, "You two are together as you are friends, but Madame likes to mix nationalities. It is an excellent way of improving your understanding of languages."
Francoise was about seventeen and pretty. I saw Lavinia examining her with some intenseness, which almost immediately turned to complacency. The French girl might be pretty, but she could not compare with Lavinia's flamboyant tawny beauty. The German girl, Gerda, was plump and had no pretensions to good looks.
"Two plain, two purl," I commented inwardly and thought, as I often did: I'll tell that to Polly.
We unpacked and chose our beds. Francoise was not a newcomer to the chateau so she was able to tell us a little about it.
"Madame," she said, "is one fierce lady. The rules ... oh so many ... You wait and see. But we have our fun, yes? You understand?"
I understood and translated for Lavinia. "What sort of fun?" she wanted to know.
Francoise raised her eyes to the ceiling. "Oh ... there is fun. In the town. It is near. We take coffee at the cafe. It is good."
Lavinia's eyes sparkled and the German asked in stilted French what the food was like.
Francoise grimaced, which I suppose was not very flattering to the chef. Gerda was a little dismayed, so I guessed the reason for her somewhat full figure.
I quickly realized that life at the chateau would be far from dull. To be in such surroundings in itself was exciting to me. The chateau dated back to the fourteenth century and many of its old features remained. There were turrets, and winding spiral staircases which led to various dark passages. The hall had obviously once been the centre of life in the chateau, and though there was a huge fireplace, one could see where the original one had been, right in the centre of the hall, with a vent above to let out the smoke. There was even an oubliette, from which, it was said, strange noises could be heard at certain times from the ghosts of those who had been incarcerated there to be forgotten. But it was the people who attracted me most.
Madame du Clos reigned over the chateau like some medieval queen. As soon as I saw her I recognized her as one of those formidable women cast in the same mould as Lady Harriet and Miss Gentian. Known simply as Madame, she was by no means tall but she gave an impression of grandeur. Clad in black—I never saw her in any other colour—her person glittered with jet, which hung from her ears and rose and fell over her impressive bosom. She had small hands and feet and sailed rather than walked, her voluminous skirts making a gentle swishing noise as she moved. Her small dark eyes darted everywhere, and she missed little, as we were to discover. Her dark hair, piled high on her head, was always immaculate; her nose was long and patrician; she bore a striking resemblance to many of the portraits which were in various parts of the chateau. They were undoubtedly members of the great family of du Clos, a certain branch of which had managed to survive the Revolution. Her grandfather, we were soon to discover, had been an intimate friend of Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette. They had lost their estates—apart from this chateau—in the debacle, but some of them had contrived to retain their heads. Madame had decided to turn the chateau into an exclusive finishing school, thereby bestowing a great privilege on those who were fortunate enough to gain admission to her establishment, and at the same time restoring her own fortunes sufficiently to enable her to live among the remains of her onetime glory.
On the first day we were all assembled in the great hall, where we were addressed by Madame and reminded of our great good fortune in being here. We should be instructed in the art of social grace; we should be ladies taught by ladies; and by the time we left Chateau Lamason we should be prepared to enter any society with ease. All doors would be open to us. Lamason was synonymous with good breeding. The greatest sin was vulgarity, and Madame du Clos would make aristocrats of us all.
The majority of the girls were French; next came the English, followed by Italian and German. We were to be given certain tuition which would enable us to make light conversation in French, English and Italian. Beside Madame on a dais sat three mistresses: Mademoiselle Le Brun, Signorina Lortoni and our own Miss Ellmore. They would lead the girls in appropriate conversation and, as they were all well bred, their speech would be that which was spoken in the highest circles of society. We were also instructed by Signor Paradetti, who taught us singing and the pianoforte, and Monsieur Dubois, the dancing master.
We learned a great deal from Francoise. She was eighteen years old, almost a year older than Lavinia. This was to be her last term and she was leaving to marry the man of her parent's choice. He was thirty years older than Francoise and very rich. It was for this reason that the marriage had been arranged, and he was eager for it, for in spite of his money he was not of a noble family. Francoise explained that he would become ennobled, and her impoverished aristocratic family would benefit from his wealth.
Gerda said she thought it was a mercenary arrangement.
Francoise shrugged her shoulders. "It makes sense," she said. "He marries into a noble family; I marry into a wealthy one. I am tired of being poor. It is terrible. Always there is talk of money ... money for the roof ... damp coming in the bedrooms ... spoiling the Fragonard and the Boucher in the music room. Alphonse will change all that. I hope never to hear talk of money any more. I only want to spend it."
Francoise was philosophical and realistic. Gerda was different. I supposed there was plenty of money in the iron works and it seemed possible that she would be allied with another giant in industry.
It was interesting listening to it all. We used to talk at night. Those nights remain vividly in my memory ... lying there in the darkness with perhaps only the light of the stars to give our room with its high ceiling and panelled walls an eerie look. I remember the comfort of those four beds in each corner of the room and the knowledge that we were not alone.
I felt very much the odd one. They were all rich. What was the daughter of a country rector doing here? I knew the answer. I was here to look after Lavinia and I owed the experience to her waywardness. I had my duty to do. Yet when I saw her casting interested looks at Monsieur Dubois I wondered how I should be able to protect her from future follies. It was, of course, what I was here to do. I should never have been given the opportunity to be in this exalted place but for the fact that Lady Harriet had selected me for this purpose.
Francoise and Lavinia talked together quite a lot. They discussed men, a subject dear to the hearts of both. I would see them whispering together. I believed that Lavinia had told Francoise about her experiences with Jos. It was the reason why she had been sent away really, although of course she had first gone to Meridian House; but from there she had been expelled for going out with boys.
In the darkness of our dormitory Lavinia would tell of her adventures, stopping short at certain points and saying, "No, I can't go on ... not in front of Drusilla. She is too young yet." She did not mention Gerda, whose deep breathing and occasional snore indicated that she was asleep. It was her way of denigrating me.