his malformation, he has to give up his attempts. The doctors agree th yy surgery could put an end to the torture resulting fy fruitless and exhausting experiences. But he the courage to submit to it. Nature has allowed him some progress, since now he does not immediate fall asleep on reach ming the marriage bed. He hopes it will allow him to make more and to be able to avoid the scalpel; he is hoping for a spontaneous cure.”
We were growing more tender towards each other. I would scold him for eating too many sweet things, which were making him so fat. I would snatch them from him just as he was about to eat them and he would pretend to scowl but he would be laughing and so pleased that I cared.
When he came to our apartments covered in plaster, for he could never see men at work without joining them, I would scold him and tell him that he must mend his ways, which made him chuckle.
Of course Mercy was busily writing of all this to my mother.
“Nothing the Dauphine can do can turn the Dauphin from his extraordinary taste for everything in the way of building, masonry and carp entering He is always having something rearranged in his apartments, and works with the workmen, moving material, beams, and paving-stones, giving himself up for hours at a time to strenuous exercise, from which he returns more tired than a day labourer….”
There would be periods when my husband was seized with a frenzy to become normal. During these we would be exhausted physically and mentally; and after a while he would revert to his old habit of going to bed hours before I did so that he was fast asleep when I arrived and he would be up at dawn while I slumbered on.
I I became bored. What could I do to amuse myself when Mercy was always at my elbow? What would my mother say to this or that? I was warned that I was eating too many sweets. Did I not know that this could result in embonpomtf My dainty figure was one of my greatest assets;
my frivolous nature, my lege rete my love of dissipation, were noticed and frowned on; but at least I had my pretty figure. If I were going to spoil that by this indulgence . The lectures went on. I had not cleaned my teeth regularly; my nails were untrimmed and not as clean as they should be. Every time I opened a letter from my mother there was some complaint.
“She cannot love me,” I told Mercy.
“She treats me like a child. She will go on treating me so until I am … thirty I’ He shook his head over me, and murmured that my lege rete was alarming.
Legerete was a word they seemed to have attached about my neck. I was constantly hearing it. Some times I dreamed that I was in bed with my husband and that my bed was surrounded by prying servants who stared at us and shouted “Legerete … dissipation … etiquette.”
“You must furnish your mind,” wrote my mother.
“You must read pious books. This is essential for you more than anyone else, for you care for nothing but music, drawing and dancing.”
When I read that letter I was angry. Perhaps it was because my mother was miles away that I could feel so. I am sure I never should if she were beside me.
Mercy watched the indignant colour flow into my cheeks and I looked up and caught him.
“She appears to think I am a performing animal.” He looked so shocked that immediately a vision of my mother came to me and I felt guilty.
“You have changed,” replied Mercy.
“When your brother the Emperor reprimanded you as he did so often ..”
“Oh, so often!” I sighed.
“You did not seem to care enough then. You would smile and forget all about it the moment after he had spoken.”
“That was different. He was only my brother. I answered him back … and sometimes we had little jokes together. But I could never answer my mother back I could never joke with her’ This was immediately reported back to my mother and her next letter said:
“Do not say that I scold and preach, but say rather:
“Mamma loves me and has constantly my advantage in view; I must believe her and comfort her by following her good advice. ” You will benefit from this, and there will then be no further shadow between us. I am sincere and I expect sincerity and candour from you.”
But she was disappointed in me, for at the same time she wrote to Mercy, and he, feeling it would be to my good to see what she wrote, showed me her letter.
“Notwithstanding all your care and discernment in directng my daughter, I see only too dearly how unwilling are her efforts to follow your advice and mine. In these days only flattery and a playful manner are liked; and when, with the best intentions, we address any serious remonstrance, our young people are wearied, consider they are scolded, and, as they always suppose, without reason. I see that this is the case with my daughter. I shall nevertheless continue to warn her when you see that it may be useful to do so, adding some amount of flattery, much as I dislike the style. I fear I have little hope of success in luring my daughter from her indolence.”
So the disagreeable pills of advice were to be sugarcoated with a thin layer, a very thin layer, of flattery!
When I read the letter I was exasperated, but I loved my mother. I might toss my head and declare that I was treated like a child, but I missed her; I wanted to be with her. There were times when I was quite frightened, and then I seemed truly like a child crying for its mother. Once when I went to my bureau I found it open, although I knew that I had locked it when I was last there because it was one of the few things I was careful about. Someone must have taken the keys from my pocket while I slept I I remembered my mother’s warning about burning her letters. I had followed this advice faithfully, but as I found it difficult to memo rise what she had written I had to keep the letters until I had answered them. I slept with them under my pillow; sometimes during the night I would put my hand under to touch the paper. Someone has been at my bureau,” I told the Abbe. He smiled.
“You forgot to lock it.”
“I did not. I did not. I swear I did not. “
‘ But he smiled at me, not believing. Such a little featherhead, interested in nothing but pleasure! Was it not the most natural thing in the world that she should forget to lock a desk?
I could confide in no one. I knew that Mercy and Vermond were my friends, but everything I told Vermond he reported to Mercy—he dared do nothing else for he held his position through the good graces of Mercy—and Mercy passed it on to my mother.
I sought consolation in lighthearted amusement. There was always Artois ready for a game. He and I made up a little party and went to Marly to see the sunrise. There were several of us, though the Dauphin did not accompany us, preferring to stay slumbering in bed. It was beautiful . the sun coming up from the horizon to shine on Marly; but it was wrong, of course. The Dauphine making, excursions in the early hours of the morning! For what purpose? No one believed that it was merely to see the sun rise.
I laid myself open to scandal without realising, although as yet public opinion was indulgent to me. I was a child, a pretty child, high-spirited and anxious for adventure. But a Dauphine with a husband suspected of impotence should be very careful. The innocent excursion to Marly was noted; and Madame de Noailles pointed out to me that such a reckless adventure should not be repeated.
What to do to relieve the boredom! If I could go to Paris, how much more interesting life would be. In Paris there was excitement. It was a busy city; there were balls which were held at the opera house. How I longed to dance, masked, to mingle with the crowds and none know I was the Dauphine, to escape for a while from that eternal etiquette I “Your entry into Paris must be official,” Madame de Noailles told me.
When, when? ” I demanded.
“That is for His Majesty to decide.”
I was frustrated. The great city was so near and yet I was not allowed to visit it. One could reach it in little more than an hour by carriage. How absurd, how ridiculous, that I was forbidden to go!
I spoke to the aunts about my desire. They were no longer so affectionate, although Adelaide pretended to be, but Vie to ire and Sophie could not hide their changed feelings. They watched me furtively when I was in the apartments. I had not obeyed Adelaide over the du Barry affair. I was therefore foolish and unpredictable.
You could not go to Paris . just like that,” said Adelaide.
“It would have to be arranged.”
My husband said that he supposed I should go when the time came. Could he not do something about
