The General, who was very fond of me, picked me up in his arms and tossed me in the air.
“You little chit,” he said; “they are putting you to the barracks, and you’ll have to mind your pace!”
I pulled his long mustache, and he said, winking, and looking in the direction of Mme. Fressard, who had a slight mustache: “You mustn’t do that to a lady, you know!”
My aunt laughed heartily, and my mother gave a little stifled laugh, and the whole troop went off in a regular whirlwind of rustling skirts and farewells, while I was taken away to the cage where I was to be imprisoned.
I spent two years at the pension. I was taught reading, writing, and reckoning. I also learned a hundred new games. I learned to sing rondeaus and to embroider handkerchiefs for my mother. I was relatively happy there, as we always went out somewhere on Thursdays and Sundays, and this gave me the sensation of liberty. The very ground in the street seemed to me quite different from the ground of the large garden belonging to the pension. Besides, there were little festivities at Mme. Fressard’s which used to send me into raptures. Mlle. Stella Colas, who had just made her début at the Théâtre Français, came sometimes on Thursdays and recited poetry to us. I could never sleep a wink the night before, and in the morning I used to comb my hair carefully and get ready, my heart beating fast with excitement, in order to listen to something I did not understand at all, but which, nevertheless, left me spellbound. Then, too, there was quite a legend attached to this pretty girl. She had flung herself almost under the horses’ feet as the Emperor was driving along, in order to attract his attention and obtain the pardon of her brother who had conspired against his sovereign.
Mlle. Stella Colas had a sister at Mme. Fressard’s, and this sister, Clothilde, is now the wife of M. Pierre Merlon, Under-Secretary of State in the Treasury Department. Stella was slight and fair, with blue eyes that were rather hard, but expressive. She had a deep voice and when this pale, fragile girl began to recite “Athalie’s Dream” it thrilled me through and through. How many times, seated on my child’s bed, did I practice saying in a low voice: “Tremble, fille digne de moi.” I used to twist my head in my shoulders, swell out my cheeks and commence:
“Tremble—trem-ble—trem-em-em—ble——”
But it always ended badly and I would begin again very quietly in a stifled voice and then unconsciously speak louder, and my companions, roused by the noise, were amused at my attempts and roared with laughter. I would then rush about to the right and left, giving them kicks and blows which they returned with interest.
Mme. Fressard’s adopted daughter, Mlle. Caroline—whom I chanced to meet a long time after, married to the celebrated artist, Yvon—would then appear on the scene, angry and implacable, and would give us all kinds of punishments for the following day. As for me, I used to get locked up for three days. That was followed by my being detained on the first day we were allowed out. And, in addition, I would receive five strokes with a ruler on my fingers. Ah! those ruler blows of Mlle. Caroline’s! I reproached her about them when I met her again twenty-five years later. She used to make us put all our fingers round the thumb and hold our hands out straight near to her and then, bang came her wide, ebony ruler. She used to give us a cruelly hard, dry blow which made the tears spurt to our eyes. I took a dislike to Mlle. Caroline. She was beautiful, but with the kind of beauty I did not care for. She had a very white complexion and very black hair which she wore in waved bandeaux. When I saw her a long time afterwards, one of my relatives brought her to my house and said: “I am sure you will not recognize this lady and yet you know her very well.”
I was leaning against the large mantelpiece in the hall and I saw this tall woman, still beautiful, but rather provincial-looking, coming through the first drawing-room. As she descended the three steps into the hall, the light fell on her protruding forehead, framed on each side with the hard, waved bandeaux.