Виктория Холт - Sweet lass of Richmond Hill

Maria Smythe lay on the hard pallet in her sparsely furnished room—which was more like a cell—and wept silently, asking herself how she could bear to be torn away from this place which had been her home for so many years.

Tomorrow Papa would come to take her away and she would leave her school-fellows, the dear nuns, the Mother Superior, the routine of the convent and Paris, and go back to England. How strange it seemed that when she had known she was to come here she had wept as bitterly at the thought of leaving her home in Brambridge as she was now weeping at the prospect of leaving the convent.

Maria sat up. Perhaps there was comfort in that. Perhaps she would become reconciled to life in Brambridge just as she had to life in the convent before she had grown to love it. But it would be different, of course. At home she would have to think about marrying for she knew well enough that this was the reason why she was being brought back to England. It happened with regularity to all the girls. They came here to be educated as good Catholics in the Convent of the Blew Nuns; then they returned home where suitable husbands were found for them; they produced children and, if they were girls, they in their turn came to the Convent. That was the pattern of Catholic girlhood.

The door opened slightly and her sister Frances appeared. Frances's eyes were red with weeping and she sniffed pathetically as she ran to the pallet and threw herself into Maria's arms.

"It's all right," soothed Maria. "You'll be all right when I'm gone. And in a very short time it will be your turn"

Frances looked up at her sister with adoration. Maria was not only the most beautiful person she knew; she was the kindest. What was little Frances going to do—newly arrived at the convent—with no Maria to protect her?

Maria immediately dismissed her own misgivings in order to comfort her sister. She pushed the heavy corn-coloured hair out of her eyes and said: "Mamma and Papa will come and visit you perhaps. Perhaps I shall come myself. And in a very short time—far shorter than seems possible now— you will be feeling sad because it is your turn to leave all this."

"But you will not be here, Maria."

"I shall write to you."

"But they will find a husband for you and even when I come home you won't be there."

"I shall invite you to my house and find a husband for you. You will live close by and we shall see each other every day."

"Oh, Maria, is that possible?"

"With Maria Smythe all things are possible."

Frances began to giggle. "Oh, Maria, Reverend Mother would say that you blaspheme."

"Then I pray you do not tell her or I shall be summoned to her presence." Maria folded her arms in an imitation of Reverend Mother. ""Maria Smythe, I hear that you believe yourself omniscient."

"Yes, Holy Mother."

"Then I pray you go to Versailles and tell the King that he must give up his evil ways."

"Yes, Holy Mother."

" She began to laugh. "Oh, I am ridiculous, am I not, Frances? Still, you are laughing."

"But you did go to Versailles, Maria, once."

Frances was asking for the story which she had heard before, so Maria obligingly told it.

"It was when Mamma and Papa came to visit me here ... as they will come to visit you. And naturally they took me to see the sights. One of the most exciting of these was a visit to Versailles. Oh, Frances, you will love to visit Versailles. There is not another palace in the world like it. The gardens, the fountains, the statues ... they are like something you have dreamed of. And the great palace with all its windows that sparkle like diamonds when the sun is on them."

"I wish we could go together, Maria."

"Well, we will talk about it when you come back to England. And we shall laugh together. Oh, you will love it here. Everyone seems so gay." Maria's face clouded for a moment. "Except some of the poor people. But you will love Versailles and you can go into the Palace and see the King having his dinner. It is so funny. There he sits in state behaving as though he is quite alone and only the barrier separates him from all the people who have come to watch him eat. I have heard that the funniest thing is the way in which he can knock the top off his egg at one stroke. But, alas, he was not eating an egg on the day Mamma and Papa took me to see him dine."

Frances was already beginning to laugh at what was to come, but Maria had no intention of arriving at a hasty conclusion.

"It is necessary to have a ticket to get into the Palace and this Papa had. Anyone can go in provided they have a ticket, except begging friars and people marked with the small pox, but before you go in you must have a sword and a hat and there are people at the gates selling these. You will laugh at the people, Frances. They put on their hats and flourish their swords and some of them have never carried a sword before. And then into the Palace. You will never forget it. It is quite magnificent. The hall of mirrors! You can see yourself reflected again and again and again.

"Yes, Maria, and when you came to the apartment where the King was dining ..."

"Oh, Frances, what a disgrace! There we were close to the rope which held us back. Papa had brought me to stand ia front of him so that I could see everything."

"And the King of France ..."

"Is a very old man, Frances. The Dauphin is his grandson. He is not nearly so handsome as his grandfather, for although the King is so old you know just by looking at him that he is a king. But the Dauphin's wife is lovely. She is like a fairy. I saw them together. She is Austrian."

"Where Papa served in the Army," said Frances. "I wonder if he saw her there."

"I doubt it. But I was telling you about the King at dinner. Well, Frances, his servants brought in a chicken. They kneel before him when they serve him; and he is so fastidious, with the most beautiful white hands sparkling with diamonds, and suddenly he picked up a chicken and tore it apart with his hands. Oh, Frances, it seemed to me so funny."

"Go on, Maria. Go on."

"There was silence. Everyone was watching the King and suddenly ... I laughed. I laughed out loud and I could not stop laughing, Frances, because for some silly reason it seemed so funny."

"Yes, yes?"

"And the King said to the man who was serving him, "Who is that laughing?" And Papa held my hand very tightly and I stopped laughing for the man came right over to where I was standing. He said: "Who are you and what is your name?" Papa was about to speak and I thought: No. I will not let Papa take the blame. So I said very loudly and very quickly. "I am Maria Smythe, an English girl from the Conception Convent in the Faubourg St. Antoine. It was I who laughed at the King."" Maria became convulsed with laughter in which joined Frances, temporarily forgetting the imminent parting. "Oh, Frances, the ceremony! It has to be seen to be believed. The King went on eating his chicken as though nothing had happened, and I stood there shivering, thinking that I should be carried off to prison and wondering what it was like living in a cell in the Bastille or the Conciergerie. I watched the man bowing and speaking to the King; then he took something from the table and came over to where I stood. I realized how grand he was when he spoke. "Mademoiselle, I, the Duc de Soubise, have the honour to present to you His Majesty's compliments. His Majesty wishes you to do him the honour of accepting this gift which he hopes will amuse you." He then presented me with a silver dish."

"Which you still have," said Frances.

Maria nodded. "And which" she went on, "was full of sugar plums."

"Show me the dish, Maria."

Maria went to the bag which was already packed and took out a beautiful dish of silver on which a delicate pattern was traced.