She had deep scars in her neck, and dead-looking yellow hair.
She saw at once what we ought to have, and she talked about our clothes with an enthusiasm as great as Betty's own.
"Ah, but Madame!" she remonstrated6 dramatically, when my mother showed her the new white satin, which was for me, and a creamy lace gown which was to be modernised for Bettina—"not böt vhite!"
My mother explained that my gown was to have rose-coloured garnishing7.
"Mais non! mais non!" Madame must pardon her for the liberty, but she, Madame Aurore, could not bring herself to see our chief advantage thrown away.[Pg 225]
What, then, was our chief advantage? Betty demanded.
What indeed, but the contrast between us. The moment she laid eyes on the hair of Mademoiselle Bettina she had said to herself: the frock of Mademoiselle Bettina should be that tender green of tilleul—with just a note of bleu de ciel. Oh, a dress of spring-time—an April dress, a gay little dress, for all its tenderness! A dress to make happy the heart of all who look thereon.
But "green!" We had sent all the way to London for the white satin, and we had no green.
Then 'twas in truth une bonne chance that Madame Aurore had! She often bought up bargains and gave her clients an opportunity to acquire them. She rushed out of the room, and returned with a piece of silk chiffon of the most adorable hue9. She showed us the effect over white satin. My satin. But then, as Madame Aurore said, we could so easily send to Stagg and Mantle's for more.
She looked at me out of snapping black eyes—eyes like animated10 boot-buttons. "Yes, yes; for you, Mademoiselle, ze note sall be sérénité ... hein? Zis priceless old lace over ivory satin.[Pg 226] Ah...." She struck an attitude. "I see it. So ... and so. A ceinture panne, couleur de feuille d'automne touched with gold broderie. Hein? Oh, very distingué, hein?"
"It must not be expensive"; we had to say that to Madame Aurore all that first day, at regular intervals11. But she had her way. She sewed hard, and she chattered12 as hard as she sewed.
Bettina ran across her in the passage that first evening as Madame Aurore came up from supper. And they began instantly on the fruitful theme of "green gown." My mother called out to Bettina that she had talked enough about clothes for one day, and in any case she had left us to go early to bed. Bettina regretted her rash promise—wasn't the least tired, and could have talked clothes till cock-crow! There was some argument on this head at the door, in which Madame Aurore joined, with too great a freedom, and an elaborate air of ranging herself on my mother's side. This pleased, least of all, the person Madame Aurore designed to propitiate13.
Madame Aurore, I am sure, had not been in the house an hour before she had taken the measure[Pg 227] of our main preoccupation. Mademoiselle Bettina ought to be grateful, she said, to have a mother so devoted14, so solicitous15. Standing16 near the open door, she piled up an exaggerated case of maternal17 love. There was nothing in life like the love between mother and child. Ah, didn't she know! Her own little girl——
Bettina thought it angelic of Madame Aurore not to resent our mother's lack of interest in the small Aurore. According to Bettina, Madame showed a wonderfully nice disposition19 in not withdrawing her interest from us after that. She seemed rather to imply: very well, you don't care about my child ... but I am still ready to care about yours.
"Parfaitement!" ... the little dressmaker remembered Bettina's passing Dew Pond House the summer before. It was true what Hermione had reported. Madame Aurore had leaned out of the window to watch Bettina. She had even expressed the wish that she might have the dressing22 of cette jolie enfant.
Bettina thought it entirely24 delightful25. She went about the house singing. The first time Madame Aurore heard Bettina she arrested the rapid stab of her basting26 needle: "Who ees dat?"
"That is my youngest daughter."
"She tink to go on ze stage?"
"Oh, no."
"Not? It ees a vast, zat."
She was always cold.
Whenever we were out of the morning-room she piled on the coal. On the second day I remonstrated. Fuel, I explained, was very expensive so far from the coal-fields. She smiled. "You are ze careful one, hein?" and she looked at me in a way which made me uncomfortable.
But I did not feel about the poor little creature as my mother did.
My mother went so far as to wish we had not sent for her. She would never have allowed her to come if she had seen her first. I thought my mother severe.
Everybody else, including the servants, liked Madame Aurore. No wonder. She spent her life doing things for people. Sewing for us all[Pg 229] day like mad, so that our two best frocks might be finished in spite of the shortness of the time; and still ready at nightfall to show the cook how to make p'tite marmite, or sauce à la financière—equally ready to advise the housemaid how to give the Bond Street, not to say the Rue21 de la Paix, touch to her Sunday alpaca, and chic27 to old Ransom's beehive hat.
If she asked them one and all more questions in a minute than they could answer in a month, what did that show but the generous interest she took in her fellow-beings?
Bettina, with her little air of large experience, said that Madame Aurore was the most "sympathetic" person she had ever met. Madame Aurore's benevolent28 concern about our clothes, our soups, sauces, and servants, and everything that was ours, extended to our friends and relations and everything that was theirs. She had never, she said, known people—let alone such charming people as we—with so few acquaintances. Bettina thought Madame Aurore was sorry for us.
She asked a great deal about the Helmstones. "Ze only friends and zey are avay for seex mont!" Ah, it was well we were going to London. We[Pg 230] should die, else, of aloneness. Aunt Josephine plainly was the one ray of light in our grey existence. Where did she live? Lowndes Square! Ah, but a very expensive and splendid part of London! No news to us, who had our own private measure for social altitudes. Bettina had looked out Lowndes Square on our faded map of London. Aunt Josephine was only a private person, but she lived nearer the King and Queen than the Helmstones did.
And for all her being a Biosophist she had asked us to stay for the Coronation. Bettina frequently led the conversation to the great event of June. But this queer little Frenchwoman was more interested in Aunt Josephine than she was in the King and Queen. Here was distinction for an Aunt!
And what was she like—this lady? We must have a picture of our only and so valuable relation.
Bettina went and rooted about in the deep print and photograph drawer, till she brought Aunt Josephine to light. Very faded and old-fashioned looking, but Madame Aurore regarded the face with a respectful enthusiasm. "Oh, une[Pg 231] grande dame1! une vraie grande dame!" Madame Aurore understood better now what was required.
We repudiated29, on our aunt's behalf, the idea that she was so much grande dame as philanthropist, thinker, recluse30. We did not deny her grandeur31. We but clarified it; or, at least, Bettina did.
"Bettina talks too much to that woman," my mother said to me privately32. She sent for Bettina and told her she was not to speak to Madame Aurore about anything except her work.
Bettina thought to interpret this order literally33 would be inhuman34. Besides, she considered it very nice of Madame Aurore to take such an interest in us. "I am grateful when people take an interest," said Bettina with her air of superiority.
When my mother heard that Bettina had been discussing Aunt Josephine, and had unearthed35 the photograph to show to Madame Aurore, she was annoyed. "Go and bring me the picture," she said.
Bettina went into the morning-room, and looked about for some minutes. The little dressmaker sat there, in a litter of white and green, sewing[Pg 232] furiously. Bettina said at last that she hated most dreadfully to bother Madame Aurore, but where was that old photograph?
Madame Aurore looked up absently. "Had Mademoiselle Bettina not taken it out?"
Aunt Josephine's photograph was never found.
I was glad our mother did not know that Bettina had told Madame Aurore about the pendant and the diamond star. Bettina excused herself by saying Madame Aurore had been so certain a lady like our mother must have jewels, and that she would lend them to her daughters, in order to put the finishing touch of elegance37 to our toilette. Betty had felt it due to our mother to acknowledge that a part, at least, of this exalted38 expectation was not so wide of the mark. And Bettina endorsed39 Madame Aurore's opinion that a diamond star certainly would "light up" my ivory satin and old lace. Also—but no, we must do without.
The green frock was all but finished. We had[Pg 233] brought the cheval glass out of my mother's room. She was "not strong enough to stand the patchouli," so she missed the great moment of the final trying on. Bettina stood before the glass, looking somehow more childish than ever, or rather seeming less of common earth and more of fairyland, in the tunic-frock of green, her short curls on her neck.
My fancy that she was like somebody out of "The Midsummer Night's Dream," was set to flight by Madame Aurore's shower of couturière's compliment, mixed with highly practical considerations, such as: "See how it falls when you sit down. Parfaitement! And can you valk in it? But wis grace!" Bettina proved she could. "A merveille! Sapristi! Mademoiselle Bettine would see the sensation she was going to create in London. Could she lift ze arm—hein?" Mais belle40 comme un ange!—many makers41 of quite beautiful gowns studied the effect seulement en repos. Mademoiselle Bettine would, without doubt, dance in that frock. Let us see, did it lend itself? Bettina moved about the morning-room to waltz time—laughing at and with Madame Aurore; stopping to make court curtsies;[Pg 234] watching in the glass if green frock had pretty manners.
One thing more, its maker20 said, and behold43 Perfection! It needed ... it cried aloud for a single jewel.
"Ah, yes." Bettina's look fell. No doubt the finishing touch would have been a pearl and emerald pendant. But——
Madame Aurore struck in with a torrential rapture45, drowning explanation and regret. Life, Madame Aurore shrilled46, was for ever using her, humble47 instrument though she was—for the working out of these benevolences. There had she—but three days ago—all innocent, unknowing—tossed that piece of chiffon tilleul into her trunk. Or rather, not her hand performed the act—not hers at all. The hand of Fate! And now, The Finger! ... pointing straight at the pearl and emerald pendant. But, instantly, must Mademoiselle Bettine go and get the ravishing jewel—the diamond star, as well, while she was about it.
Then poor Betty had to say these glories were no more.
Madame Aurore snapped her boot-button eyes, and rolled them up. Our poor, poor mother![Pg 235] Deeply, ah! but profoundly, Madame Aurore commiserated48 une dame si distinguée, si élégante, being in straitened circumstances. Ah, Madame Aurore understood! She would be most economical with the coals.
All the same she wasn't.
But what did it matter! since she turned us out dresses that we were sure Hermione, herself, would have characterised as "Dreams." Bettina went about the house, singing:
"'Where are you going to, my pretty maid?'
'Going to London, Sir,' she said...."
Madame Aurore even managed to put the finishing touches to the two frocks made in the village, which Bettina called our Coronation robes—just white muslin, but not "just muslin" at all, after they had passed through Madame Aurore's hands. She listened indulgently while Bettina wondered how the young Princes would like driving through London in a gold coach, and above all how the little Princess would feel; and how she would look; and how did Madame Aurore think she would do her hair?[Pg 236]
"Oh, dearest, she feels it. I know from something——"
"I do not object to her knowing. But I am not interested in Madame Aurore." My mother dismissed her.
The fact was that none of the torrent44 of talk (carried on now in a whisper, with elaborate deference50 to the chère malade)—none of it had to do with Madame Aurore herself. We had had to ask her all of the little we came to know about her. She had no regular business in London. Ah, no, she was too often ill. She merely went out to work when she was "strong enuss."
"Zen too, ze leedle gal51. I haf to sink about her." The thought seemed one to harass52. All would be different if Mme. Aurore had a shop.
We agreed that to have a shop full of lovely French models, would be delightful. And by-and-by the little Aurore would help in the shop.
"Nevair!" said Mme. Aurore with sudden passion. She knew all about being in shops. It was to prevent her daughter from knowing, too,[Pg 237] that Mme. Aurore must make money. The little Aurore should go to the Convent school—which seemed somehow an odd destination for the daughter of Madame Aurore. She spoke53 of it as a far dream, beckoning54.
"Nossing—but nossing can be done in zis world vidout monny." And what people will do for money—oh, little did we know! But the world was like that. Eh bien, Madame Aurore had not made it. Had she done so, it would be a better place.
Betty and I smiled at the pains taken to make this clear. Madame Aurore professed55 herself revolted by an arrangement which made "ze goodness or ze badness of a pairson" dependent upon where you happened to find yourself.
"Par8 example you can be extrêmement good here." More. She would go so far as to say you must be a genius to discover how to be bad here.
Through Betty's laughing protest, the little woman went on with seriousness to assure us it was "une chose bien différente dans ..." she checked herself, bit off the end of her thread, and spat56 it out.
"It is different, you mean, in Crutchley[Pg 238] Street?" Betty asked. And, though she got no answer, I think we both understood the anxious mother to be thinking of the small Aurore left all alone in one of the world's Mean Streets. Perhaps the reason Betty got no answer to her question was that she had slightly raised her voice in putting it, and I had said, "Sh!"
"What ees it?" Madame Aurore demanded, looking round.
"I was only reminding Betty," I said. "We mustn't disturb my mother."
Hah! naturally not. Whatever happened, she was not to be disturbed!
I was afraid, from the tone in which Madame Aurore said this, that she thought I had been reproving her. And, to divert her thoughts, I asked: "Who takes care of her—the little daughter—while you are away?"
Again she bit viciously at the thread. "Not motch 'care'!" The small eyes snapped as she drew the thread through the needle's eye. I had never seen even her hands fly so fast, or her whole feverish57 little body attack the basting with such fury of energy as after that reference to the child left behind in Crutchley Street.[Pg 239]
Bettina said soothingly58: "I suppose you left her with some good friend?"
"Ze best I haf."
The admission was made in an accent so coldly hopeless that Bettina, round-eyed, said: "Oh, dear, isn't she a nice friend?"
"She is like ozzers. She is as nice as she can afford." Madame Aurore had recovered her shrill vivacity59. She had not, after all, taken to heart my hint about keeping our voices down. "In some parts of ze vorld," she went on, in that raised, defiant60 note, "you might be quite good for a week; wis luck for a few months; but you could not be good from year's end to year's end."
"Why was that?" Bettina asked softly.
Madame Aurore laughed out. "Ze climat!" she said, in a voice that must certainly have penetrated61 the next room. "Somesing in ze air." Then lower, with a tigerish swiftness: "I shall not ron ze risk for my liddle gal! Non!" She tossed the satin on the machine, thrust it under the needle, and seemed to work the treadle by dint62 of compressing lips and knitting brows.
Bettina and I agreed we would not talk to her any more about her daughter, since, unlike most[Pg 240] mothers, the thought of her child did not soften63 Madame Aurore, but made her hard and angry.
Surreptitiously—for she knew leave would be refused—Bettina gave Madame Aurore some of our old toys, and other little gifts, to take home to her daughter.
I did not prevent this, for I, too, felt uneasily that we ought somehow to make up for our mother's nervous detestation of Madame Aurore.
Had this, as the little dressmaker hinted, something of sheer sickness in it—an invalid's caprice? Bettina said lightheartedly: "Oh, it's only because Aurore is a foreigner. Mother admits she never did like foreigners."
After the first day there was almost no personal interchange between Madame Aurore and her employer. Yet I had a queer feeling that a silent drama was being played out between those two who, without meeting, were acting64 and reacting upon each other.
Madame Aurore asked each day, How was madame? in a voice of extremest solicitude—nay, of gloomiest apprehension65.[Pg 241]
I found myself wrestling with an uncomfortable feeling that this hopeless view of my mother's health was somehow prompted by a desire "to get even" with the one unresponsive member of our little circle—to get even in the only way open to Madame Aurore. I knew she advised the housemaid to look out for another place, and offered to find her one in London, where she would be paid double, and have almost nothing to do. The housemaid was greatly tempted66, but I was told she said she wouldn't go till her mistress was better.
"Bettair! She vill not last a mont!" said Madame Aurore.
At first such echoes as reached me of these prognostications made me merely angry. But I could not quite cast them aside. I began to wonder miserably67 if there were anything in this view. After all we, too—even Eric—had held it ourselves, only such a little while before!
I wrote to Aunt Josephine to say that if my mother were not better by Monday morning, I should bring Bettina as arranged; but I would stay only one night and go home the next day.
The question rose on Friday as to whether[Pg 242] Madame Aurore should return to London on Saturday night, or some time on Sunday.
"Saturday night," said my mother with decision.
Bettina ventured to urge the Sunday alternative. "The poor little thing is so tired after sewing all day——"
To which my mother responded by ordering the cart for Saturday evening.
"I cannot sleep with that woman in the house."
Bettina ran in to say Madame Aurore was ready to say good-bye. To our embarrassment68, our mother would not permit Madame Aurore to enter the room, even for the purpose of taking leave.
We went out and did what we could to soften the refusal. "She has not been sleeping...." "She is trying to rest...." "She is so much obliged to you...."
Ah, Madame Aurore understood. Our poor, poor mother was undoubtedly69 failing. We were adjured70 to take every care. Certainly we should not both leave the poor lady.
We told Madame Aurore that we should[Pg 243] never forget her. "I shall take good care of the address," Bettina said.
No, Madame Aurore would send us a new address. She was looking for larger rooms. She believed she was going to be stronger now. She meant to take on two or three hands. In that case, she would not be able to go out any more to people's houses. She would let us know....
She filled the hall with her patchouli and shrill vivacity, and presently was gone.
When we went back into my mother's room, we found her telling the housemaid to hang our gowns in a draught71 "to purify them."
Betty was moved to some final remonstrance72.
My mother cut her short: "That was a horrible woman!"
"Well, well," I said, "she's gone."
"Yes. That is the best that can be said of Madame Aurore. We are done with her for ever."
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1
dame
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| n.女士 | |
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shrill
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| adj.尖声的；刺耳的；v尖叫 | |
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drenched
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| adj.湿透的；充满的v.使湿透( drench的过去式和过去分词 )；在某人（某物）上大量使用（某液体） | |
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scent
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| n.气味，香味，香水，线索，嗅觉；v.嗅，发觉 | |
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lavished
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| v.过分给予，滥施( lavish的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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remonstrated
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| v.抗议( remonstrate的过去式和过去分词 )；告诫 | |
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garnishing
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| v.给（上餐桌的食物）加装饰( garnish的现在分词 ) | |
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par
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| n.标准，票面价值，平均数量；adj.票面的，平常的，标准的 | |
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hue
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| n.色度；色调；样子 | |
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animated
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| adj.生气勃勃的，活跃的，愉快的 | |
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intervals
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| n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 )；间隔时间；[数学]区间；（戏剧、电影或音乐会的）幕间休息 | |
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chattered
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| （人）喋喋不休( chatter的过去式 )； 唠叨； （牙齿）打战； （机器）震颤 | |
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propitiate
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devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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solicitous
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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maternal
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| adj.母亲的，母亲般的，母系的，母方的 | |
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undo
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| vt.解开，松开；取消，撤销 | |
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disposition
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| n.性情，性格；意向，倾向；排列，部署 | |
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maker
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| n.制造者，制造商 | |
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rue
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| n.懊悔，芸香，后悔；v.后悔，悲伤，懊悔 | |
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dressing
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| n.(食物)调料；包扎伤口的用品，敷料 | |
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droll
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entirely
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delightful
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basting
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| n.疏缝；疏缝的针脚；疏缝用线；涂油v.打( baste的现在分词 )；粗缝；痛斥；（烤肉等时）往上抹[浇]油 | |
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chic
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| n./adj.别致(的)，时髦(的)，讲究的 | |
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benevolent
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| adj.仁慈的，乐善好施的 | |
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repudiated
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| v.（正式地）否认( repudiate的过去式和过去分词 )；拒绝接受；拒绝与…往来；拒不履行（法律义务） | |
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recluse
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grandeur
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| n.伟大，崇高，宏伟，庄严，豪华 | |
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privately
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literally
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| adv.照字面意义，逐字地；确实 | |
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inhuman
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unearthed
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scoured
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elegance
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exalted
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| adj.(地位等)高的，崇高的；尊贵的，高尚的 | |
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endorsed
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| vt.& vi.endorse的过去式或过去分词形式v.赞同( endorse的过去式和过去分词 )；在（尤指支票的）背面签字；在（文件的）背面写评论；在广告上说本人使用并赞同某产品 | |
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belle
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makers
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| n.制造者，制造商（maker的复数形式） | |
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curt
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| adj.简短的，草率的 | |
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behold
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| v.看，注视，看到 | |
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torrent
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| n.激流，洪流；爆发，(话语等的)连发 | |
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rapture
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| n.狂喜；全神贯注；着迷；v.使狂喜 | |
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shrilled
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| （声音）尖锐的，刺耳的，高频率的( shrill的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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humble
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| adj.谦卑的，恭顺的；地位低下的；v.降低，贬低 | |
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48
commiserated
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| v.怜悯，同情( commiserate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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pointedly
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| adv.尖地，明显地 | |
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deference
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| n.尊重，顺从；敬意 | |
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51
gal
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| n.姑娘，少女 | |
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52
harass
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| vt.使烦恼，折磨，骚扰 | |
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53
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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54
beckoning
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| adj.引诱人的，令人心动的v.（用头或手的动作）示意，召唤( beckon的现在分词 ) | |
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55
professed
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| 公开声称的，伪称的，已立誓信教的 | |
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56
spat
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| n.口角，掌击；v.发出呼噜呼噜声 | |
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57
feverish
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| adj.发烧的，狂热的，兴奋的 | |
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soothingly
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| adv.抚慰地，安慰地；镇痛地 | |
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59
vivacity
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| n.快活，活泼，精神充沛 | |
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defiant
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| adj.无礼的，挑战的 | |
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61
penetrated
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| adj. 击穿的，鞭辟入里的 动词penetrate的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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62
dint
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| n.由于，靠；凹坑 | |
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63
soften
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| v.(使)变柔软；(使)变柔和 | |
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64
acting
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| n.演戏，行为，假装；adj.代理的，临时的，演出用的 | |
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65
apprehension
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| n.理解，领悟；逮捕，拘捕；忧虑 | |
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66
tempted
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| v.怂恿（某人）干不正当的事；冒…的险（tempt的过去分词） | |
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67
miserably
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| adv.痛苦地；悲惨地；糟糕地；极度地 | |
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68
embarrassment
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| n.尴尬；使人为难的人(事物)；障碍；窘迫 | |
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69
undoubtedly
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| adv.确实地，无疑地 | |
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adjured
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| v.（以起誓或诅咒等形式）命令要求( adjure的过去式和过去分词 )；祈求；恳求 | |
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71
draught
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| n.拉，牵引，拖；一网（饮，吸，阵)；顿服药量，通风；v.起草，设计 | |
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remonstrance
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| n抗议，抱怨 | |
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