‘She isn’t mine, she’s Aunt Angélique’s!’ she cried, and looked at Madeleine as if she must be mad for having made such a mistake. There was another pause. Madeleine sighed wearily and went to look at the famous tapestry, the child followed her.
Its design consisted of groups of small pastoral figures disporting themselves in a blue Arcady. In one group there was a shepherdess sitting on a rustic bench, surrounded by shepherds; a nymph was offering her a basket of flowers. The child pointed to the shepherdess: ‘That is my grandmother, and that is me bringing her flowers, and that is my father, and that is Monsieur Sarrasin, and that is my dear Maître Claude!’ ... This was better. Madeleine made a violent effort to be suitably fantastic.
‘It may be when you are asleep you do in truth become that nymph and live in the tapestry.’ The child stared at her, frowned, and continued her catalogue:—
‘And that is my mother, and that is Aunt Angélique, and that is Madame de Longueville, and that is Madame de Sablé, and that is Monsieur de la Rochefoucauld, and that is my little friend Mademoiselle de Sévigné,’ and so on.
When she had been through the list of her acquaintances, she wandered off and began to play with a box of ivory puzzles. Madeleine, in a final attempt to ingratiate herself, found for her some of the missing pieces, at which her mouth began to tremble, and Madeleine realised that all the pleasure lay in doing it by herself, so she left her, and with a heavy heart crept back to the bedroom.
She found Madame Cornuel and Mademoiselle Legendre preparing to go, and supposing they had already said good-bye, solemnly curtseyed to all the company in turn. They responded with great friendliness and kindness, but she suddenly noticed Madame Cornuel exchanging glances with her step-daughter, and realised in a flash that by making her adieux she had been guilty of a provincialism. She smiled grimly to herself. What did it matter?
Madame Cornuel dropped her in the rue Saint-Honoré, and she walked quietly home.
She had not exchanged a single word with Mademoiselle de Scudéry.