although I have observed that she is capable of adjusting her expression to suit the moment, without letting any hint of her real feelings seep through. “Of course, Caroline,” she says. “Your future will be decided soon and you will be making such arrangements yourself. When will you return?”
“I am afraid that is not certain as yet. I shall send word.”
I don’t know why, but the idea of Caroline leaving just now, just as I am beginning to understand how things work in this school, fills me with dismay. “Must you truly leave, Caroline?” I ask.
“Yes, but I shall return soon. I will write to you every day while I am gone. Do not be downhearted,” Caroline says.
I see that she has no feeling of obligation or friendship for me, and is just as quick to drop me as she took me up. I cannot help the sigh that escapes me, and I look toward Hortense. She gazes back at me with a sympathetic expression. Could she really be so good as to understand my fascination with Caroline, even though Caroline has been revealed to me as her enemy?
“I suppose you will attend parties while you’re there,” I say, looking back at Caroline with a slight smile. I remember what Hortense said. I have a secret to keep for her.
One of Caroline’s eyebrows twitches almostimperceptibly. I see her shoot a quick glance at Hortense, then approach me.
“If she does, I hope she will practice some of her skills of discretion and conversation,” Madame Campan says, reminding me that we are not alone, but are putting on some kind of delicate ballet of hints and suggestions for the benefit of the entire school.
“What shall I do, then?” I ask.
Caroline’s face brightens. “Would you like to visit my mother with me—with Madame’s permission, of course?”
“Oh! May I? Must I ask Mama first?” I turn to Madame Campan, as though it is really her decision about whether or not I go with Caroline.
“Your maman gave me permission to allow you whatever diversions I thought would be advantageous to your education,” Madame says. I can hear the “but” in her voice, though. “ Tout de même ,” she says, “I hesitate to interrupt your studies, so recently begun.”
“I shall ensure that she keeps up with her lessons,” Caroline says.
“Please, madame?” I clasp my hands together like a child. Perhaps that is overplaying my game, but I can see from Madame Campan’s softening expression that it has worked.
“ Eh bien . But you must return in three days, regardless of how long Caroline is to remain.” Three days! Much can happen in three days, I have already discovered. I smile.
“The drawing master will be here soon,” Madame says.
“I must prepare to leave,” Caroline says.
“So must I,” I echo. Besides, drawing is my least favorite lesson. I am hopeless at it, and only frustrate my teachers. And I have seen Hortense’s work. It is very skilled. I smile at Hortense, who has the good grace to smile back.
Within an hour we are settled in a fiacre with our valises tied to the back. “Will I meet Madame Bonaparte?” I ask Caroline.
“My mother? Of course,” she says.
I realize my mistake. I should hold my tongue, but I cannot help wanting to know. “I meant, actually...”
“You mean Joséphine. Hortense’s mother.” Caroline looks cross. “Very likely. But there are some things you ought to know about her first.”
“I know that she is a Creole, from the island of Martinique. My mother told me. And that her first husband was executed in the Terreur .”
Caroline takes hold of my arm and turns me toward her, almost angrily. “Joséphine’s first husband was estranged from her almost from the hour of their marriage,” she says. “Hortense never knew him. He abandoned the family before she was born.”
I cannot help feeling a trifle shocked. She continues. “But that is not the worst of it. Joséphine became so accustomed to admiration that she had many lovers, and has continued this habit
“I am afraid that is not certain as yet. I shall send word.”
I don’t know why, but the idea of Caroline leaving just now, just as I am beginning to understand how things work in this school, fills me with dismay. “Must you truly leave, Caroline?” I ask.
“Yes, but I shall return soon. I will write to you every day while I am gone. Do not be downhearted,” Caroline says.
I see that she has no feeling of obligation or friendship for me, and is just as quick to drop me as she took me up. I cannot help the sigh that escapes me, and I look toward Hortense. She gazes back at me with a sympathetic expression. Could she really be so good as to understand my fascination with Caroline, even though Caroline has been revealed to me as her enemy?
“I suppose you will attend parties while you’re there,” I say, looking back at Caroline with a slight smile. I remember what Hortense said. I have a secret to keep for her.
One of Caroline’s eyebrows twitches almostimperceptibly. I see her shoot a quick glance at Hortense, then approach me.
“If she does, I hope she will practice some of her skills of discretion and conversation,” Madame Campan says, reminding me that we are not alone, but are putting on some kind of delicate ballet of hints and suggestions for the benefit of the entire school.
“What shall I do, then?” I ask.
Caroline’s face brightens. “Would you like to visit my mother with me—with Madame’s permission, of course?”
“Oh! May I? Must I ask Mama first?” I turn to Madame Campan, as though it is really her decision about whether or not I go with Caroline.
“Your maman gave me permission to allow you whatever diversions I thought would be advantageous to your education,” Madame says. I can hear the “but” in her voice, though. “ Tout de même ,” she says, “I hesitate to interrupt your studies, so recently begun.”
“I shall ensure that she keeps up with her lessons,” Caroline says.
“Please, madame?” I clasp my hands together like a child. Perhaps that is overplaying my game, but I can see from Madame Campan’s softening expression that it has worked.
“ Eh bien . But you must return in three days, regardless of how long Caroline is to remain.” Three days! Much can happen in three days, I have already discovered. I smile.
“The drawing master will be here soon,” Madame says.
“I must prepare to leave,” Caroline says.
“So must I,” I echo. Besides, drawing is my least favorite lesson. I am hopeless at it, and only frustrate my teachers. And I have seen Hortense’s work. It is very skilled. I smile at Hortense, who has the good grace to smile back.
Within an hour we are settled in a fiacre with our valises tied to the back. “Will I meet Madame Bonaparte?” I ask Caroline.
“My mother? Of course,” she says.
I realize my mistake. I should hold my tongue, but I cannot help wanting to know. “I meant, actually...”
“You mean Joséphine. Hortense’s mother.” Caroline looks cross. “Very likely. But there are some things you ought to know about her first.”
“I know that she is a Creole, from the island of Martinique. My mother told me. And that her first husband was executed in the Terreur .”
Caroline takes hold of my arm and turns me toward her, almost angrily. “Joséphine’s first husband was estranged from her almost from the hour of their marriage,” she says. “Hortense never knew him. He abandoned the family before she was born.”
I cannot help feeling a trifle shocked. She continues. “But that is not the worst of it. Joséphine became so accustomed to admiration that she had many lovers, and has continued this habit
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