Lament for a lost lover

The servants and I took them to the rooms we had assigned to them-the three women were in one and the men in another. I apologized for the scantiness of the accommodation at which Monsieur Lamotte declared “It is princely, dear lady. Princely.” Then I went to my room, undressed and tried to sleep, which was quite impossible after all the excitement.

I felt depressed because tomorrow they would be gone. The chateau would settle down to its normal routine which I now knew was intolerably dull. I should never again be able to delight in its simple pleasure as I had before. I wanted to be an actress like Harriet Main. She had stood out among them all.

How magnificently she had played and how I should have loved to see her act the part in English. What we had seen had been a French translation much abridged ... and losing a great deal in the translation as must be expected. Monsieur Lamotte had said that it was one of the most popular of Shakespeare’s plays and that was why it had been translated into French. Perhaps they should have done a French play, but they had played Shakespeare as a compliment to us.

How gracious I thought them! How charming! Of course they were acting all the time, but how pleasant that was!

I went into a reverie then. I imagined that King Charles was restored to his throne, that he opened theatres all over the country and that our parents came to take us back to England. We were at Court and there was a play for the King’s entertainment in which I was chosen for the principal role.

It followed on naturally from that wonderful evening.

Then I heard voices. I sat up in bed. They were in the corridor ... low hissing voices.

I put a wrap about me and, going to the door, opened it slightly. Two women were standing in the corridor. One of them was Harriet Main, the other Fleurette.

“I’m sick and tired of your jealousy,” Harriet was saying.

“Jealousy! I wouldn’t be in your shoes. Today’s favourite is tomorrow’s outcast.”

“You should know,” retorted Harriet, “having lingered long in the second part.” Fleurette brought up her hand and slapped Harriet’s face sharply. I heard the contact distinctly.

“Don’t dare lay hands on me,” said Harriet, returning the slap. “You English slut,” was the answer, and to my horror she lifted her hand again. I saw Harriet catch her wrist and shake her. Then Fleurette suddenly wrenched herself free and Harriet stepped backwards. Behind her were three stairs. It was a good thing it was not the main staircase. She toppled and fell.

“That’ll teach you,” hissed Fleurette. “That’s what you needed. A fall ... before Jabot drops you. It’ll prepare you for what’s to come.”

I was half out of the door, ready to go and see if Harriet was hurt, then I realized that I should only cause embarrassment if they knew I had been eavesdropping, so I hung back. I saw Harriet get to her feet and come tottering back up the three stairs. “Go on,” jeered Fleurette. “You’re not hurt. You could have a wall fall On you and you’d come bobbing up. I know your kind.”

“Then,” said Harriet, “you should be careful not to anger me.” Fleurette laughed and went into the room I had prepared for them. A few seconds later Harriet followed.

It was clear that they disliked each other and I fancied the handsome Jabot was the reason. Life might be exciting in the playacting world but it was clearly far from serene. I was awake early next morning It had been long before I slept and then only fitfully, and the first thing I thought when I awakened was we must feed the players well before they went out into the cold.

I went to the window. It was no longer snowing and there was only a faint white layer on the ground I had hoped that they might be snowbound and have to stay with us because the weather was too bad for them to travel I pictured our having plays every night I went to the kitchens Jacques was already there with Jeanne and Marianne They were bustling about preparing ale and bread with cold bacon, as determined as I that the actors should be fed well before their departure.

The chateau had taken on a new vitality since they had arrived Now their voices could be heard-such loud resonant voices, they could not say a good morning without making it sound full of drama, and we were all a little depressed because their stay was coming to its end.

Jeanne set the table in the hall while Marianne hastily stirred up the fire, which had not completely died down during the night.

Monsieur Lamotte descended and came at once to me He kissed my hand and bowed “Dear lady, rarely have I spent such a comfortable night “

“I trust you were warm enough “