again. "I have been trying to say that I have invited them both here tomorrow."
Then I started quickly on my soup, because I knew that they would all be looking at me in horror.
"Whom have you invited, my child?" Mama asked.
"Two young gentlemen. Citizen Joseph Bonpat or whatever his name is, and his young brother, the General." I answered stoutly.
"You will have to cancel that invitation." said Etienne, banging the table. "Times are too unsettled to offer hospitality to two escaped Corsican adventurers no one has ever heard of!"
"And it's not proper for you to invite a gentleman you met by chance in a government office. That is not the way to behave. You are no longer a child, Eugénie!" This from Mama.
"That is the very first time anyone in this house has admitted that I am no longer a child," I remarked.
"Eugénie, I am ashamed of you," said Julie, in tones of deep sorrow.
"But these Corsican refugees have so few friends in the town," I ventured. I hoped to appeal to Mama's soft heart.
"People whose origins Mama and I know nothing about? Out of the question. Don't you ever consider your sister's and your own good name?" This from Etienne.
"It won't hurt Julie," I murmured, and glanced at her. I hoped she would help me. But she remained silent.
Etienne's experience during the last few days had destroyed his self-control. "You are a disgrace to the family!" he shouted.
"Etienne, she is only a child and does not know what she has done," said Mama.
At that, unfortunately, I, too, lost my temper. I was burning with rage. "Once and for all, I wish to have it understood that I am neither a child nor a disgrace!"
For a moment there was silence. Then Mama commanded, "Go to your room.at once, Eugénie!"
"But I'm still hungry, I've only begun my meal."
Mama's silver bell rang violently. "Marie, please serve Mlle Eugénie's meal in her room. " And to me, "Go along, my child, have a good rest and think about your recent behaviour. You have caused your mother and your good brother Etienne great anxiety. Good night."
Marie brought me my supper up to the room I share with Julie. She sat down on Julie's bed. "What happened?" she demanded at once. "What's wrong with them all?"
When we are alone Marie always speaks to me informally: she is my friend and not a servant—after all, she came to us years ago when I needed a wet nurse, and I believe she loves me as much as her own natural child, Pierre, who is being brought up somewhere in the country.
I shrugged my shoulders. "It's all because I've invited two young men here tomorrow."
Marie nodded thoughtfully. "Very clever of you, Eugénie. It's time Mlle Julie met some young men."
Marie and I always understand each other.
"Shall I make you a cup of chocolate?" she whispered. "From our private store?" For Marie and I have a private store of delicacies which Mama doesn't know about. Marie gets the things from the larder, without asking.
After I had drunk the chocolate, when I was alone, I began to write everything down. It's now midnight and Julie is still downstairs. It's hateful of them to leave me out.
Now Julie has come in and is beginning to undress. Mama has decided to receive the two gentlemen tomorrow—the invitation could hardly be cancelled. This Julie has report with feigned indifference. "But I am to tell you that it will be their first and last visit."
Julie is standing in front of the mirror rubbing cream on her face. The cream is called Lily Dew. Julie read somewhere that even in prison the Du Barry always used Lily Dew. But Julie hasn't it in her to become a Du Barry! Now she is asking whether he is handsome.
"Who?" I asked, pretending to be stupid.
"This gentleman who brought you home."
"Very handsome by moonlight. Very handsome by lantern light. But I've not yet seen him by daylight."
That's all that Julie is getting out of me.
Marseilles, at the beginning of Prairial (The lovely month of May, says Mama, is almost over)
His name is
Then I started quickly on my soup, because I knew that they would all be looking at me in horror.
"Whom have you invited, my child?" Mama asked.
"Two young gentlemen. Citizen Joseph Bonpat or whatever his name is, and his young brother, the General." I answered stoutly.
"You will have to cancel that invitation." said Etienne, banging the table. "Times are too unsettled to offer hospitality to two escaped Corsican adventurers no one has ever heard of!"
"And it's not proper for you to invite a gentleman you met by chance in a government office. That is not the way to behave. You are no longer a child, Eugénie!" This from Mama.
"That is the very first time anyone in this house has admitted that I am no longer a child," I remarked.
"Eugénie, I am ashamed of you," said Julie, in tones of deep sorrow.
"But these Corsican refugees have so few friends in the town," I ventured. I hoped to appeal to Mama's soft heart.
"People whose origins Mama and I know nothing about? Out of the question. Don't you ever consider your sister's and your own good name?" This from Etienne.
"It won't hurt Julie," I murmured, and glanced at her. I hoped she would help me. But she remained silent.
Etienne's experience during the last few days had destroyed his self-control. "You are a disgrace to the family!" he shouted.
"Etienne, she is only a child and does not know what she has done," said Mama.
At that, unfortunately, I, too, lost my temper. I was burning with rage. "Once and for all, I wish to have it understood that I am neither a child nor a disgrace!"
For a moment there was silence. Then Mama commanded, "Go to your room.at once, Eugénie!"
"But I'm still hungry, I've only begun my meal."
Mama's silver bell rang violently. "Marie, please serve Mlle Eugénie's meal in her room. " And to me, "Go along, my child, have a good rest and think about your recent behaviour. You have caused your mother and your good brother Etienne great anxiety. Good night."
Marie brought me my supper up to the room I share with Julie. She sat down on Julie's bed. "What happened?" she demanded at once. "What's wrong with them all?"
When we are alone Marie always speaks to me informally: she is my friend and not a servant—after all, she came to us years ago when I needed a wet nurse, and I believe she loves me as much as her own natural child, Pierre, who is being brought up somewhere in the country.
I shrugged my shoulders. "It's all because I've invited two young men here tomorrow."
Marie nodded thoughtfully. "Very clever of you, Eugénie. It's time Mlle Julie met some young men."
Marie and I always understand each other.
"Shall I make you a cup of chocolate?" she whispered. "From our private store?" For Marie and I have a private store of delicacies which Mama doesn't know about. Marie gets the things from the larder, without asking.
After I had drunk the chocolate, when I was alone, I began to write everything down. It's now midnight and Julie is still downstairs. It's hateful of them to leave me out.
Now Julie has come in and is beginning to undress. Mama has decided to receive the two gentlemen tomorrow—the invitation could hardly be cancelled. This Julie has report with feigned indifference. "But I am to tell you that it will be their first and last visit."
Julie is standing in front of the mirror rubbing cream on her face. The cream is called Lily Dew. Julie read somewhere that even in prison the Du Barry always used Lily Dew. But Julie hasn't it in her to become a Du Barry! Now she is asking whether he is handsome.
"Who?" I asked, pretending to be stupid.
"This gentleman who brought you home."
"Very handsome by moonlight. Very handsome by lantern light. But I've not yet seen him by daylight."
That's all that Julie is getting out of me.
Marseilles, at the beginning of Prairial (The lovely month of May, says Mama, is almost over)
His name is
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