The Chevalier's daughter : $b or, An exile for the truthGuernsey, Lucy Ellen
History
The Chevalier's daughter : $b or, An exile for the truth
Guernsey, Lucy Ellen
France -- History -- Louis XIV, 1643-1715 -- Juvenile fiction; Historical fiction; Huguenots -- France -- Juvenile fiction
"Ah, madame, had I but a Normandy brass jar for milking in, I should be
quite happy," said the good woman. "To think what beautiful milk-jars I
had, and how they are all fallen into the hands of the Philistines, as
it were!"
"Ah, my poor Jeanne, if it were only the milk-jars that had fallen into
the hands of the Philistines!" said old Simon. "But we must be thankful
that we have been so kindly dealt by in this strange land. Will madame
come to the stable and look at the horses?"
"Horses! What horses?" asked my mother, in surprise.
"The two saddle horses, madame, and the pony for mamselle, and the
donkey. Indeed they are nice creatures. Monsieur Corbet recommended
the gray for madame's riding, and the pony is as pretty and gentle a
creature for a young lady as I ever saw. Monsieur has been training it
for this fortnight."
Of course we must go to see them, and I was in ecstasies over my pony,
but my mother looked a little grave.
"Andrew overloads us with benefits," said she. "I must talk with him
about these same horses. The obligation is almost too great. But never
mind, my Vevette; enjoy your pretty Blanche. See how she stoops her
head to be petted!"
We returned to the house to find supper served, and Dinah, who had
stepped easily enough into the place of waiting-gentlewoman, standing
behind my mother's chair. We had been a little afraid Jeanne's feelings
might be wounded by this arrangement, but she fell into it more than
contentedly. She was born a cook, and her delight in having such a neat
kitchen to rule in her own way overcame every other consideration.
Simon had had great pleasure in putting to rights the rather overgrown
garden, which was now a picture of neatness, and he declared he could
easily take care both of that and the garden at the Court till such
time as Andrew could suit himself with a gardener.
The next day was mine at the school, but I did not go thither, being
resolved, after all I had heard, never to set foot therein till
Margaret came and asked me. With the help of the pins Andrew had made,
I had got three or four of the older girls, along with Peggy Mellish,
nicely started in knitting. Now, as I have said, Margaret could do most
things better than any one else; but she had never known how to knit
till she had learned it of me, and she was by no means quick at it.
The truth was, she had expected to take up the art at once and knit at
the very first start as fast and as well as I did, and when she found
that she must needs begin as slowly as one of the maids at the school,
and that she dropped stitches and split threads when she tried to knit
fast, she was a good deal out of patience. I must needs confess that
it gave me a little wicked pleasure to think of the embarrassment she
would fall into over the knitting.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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