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
We arrived in Paris at last, and I found myself dazzled by the splendid
buildings and the grand equipages which met my eyes on every hand. The
streets, it was true, were quite as dirty as London, but there was
no fog or coal smoke to obscure the air or blacken the house fronts.
My aunt was in the best of spirits at being once more in her dear
native city, but I could not help thinking my uncle rather grave and
preoccupied. As to Father Martien, he was always the same under every
circumstance, and I have no doubt would have preserved the same calm
countenance whether he were watching the agonies of a heretic on the
wheel, or being himself served with the same sauce by the Iroquois.
My uncle had a fine hotel in a fashionable situation, and as a courier
had been sent before us we found everything ready for our reception. I
was assigned a small room which looked into a court, and had no exit
but through my aunt's reception-room. It was prettily furnished enough,
but I took a dislike to it from the first, because it reminded me of my
little turret-room at the Tour d'Antin, which I would have preferred of
all things to forget.
I had looked forward to Paris as a scene of gaiety and splendor far
beyond anything I had ever seen, and so it was, but I very soon found
that the gaiety and splendor were not for me. It was not that my aunt
meant to be unkind; on the contrary, at that time she was amiability
itself, but in France a young lady of good family lives before her
marriage in a state of as much seclusion as if she were in a convent.
In fact, almost every French young lady is placed in a convent at a
very early age, from which she only emerges to be married to the man
not of her own, but of her parents' choice, whom she perhaps never saw
more than twice and never a moment alone, till she was married to him.
I could not complain of being treated as other girls were, but I must
confess I found the life a very dull one. My aunt lost no time in
securing for me the services of a music and a dancing master, and she
often took me out with her in the coach, but I had no companions of my
own age. I was not at all well. I had been accustomed to a great deal
of exercise all my life, and that in the fresh air, and the state of
excitement in which I had been kept for such a length of time began to
tell on me.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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