Singing-lesson.
Enter Antonin Rabastens wearing a sky-blue tie.
‘Hail, fair sun!’ as the Provencal girls used to say to Roumestan.
Goodness, Mademoiselle Aimee Lanthenay was there too, followed by a little creature even smaller than herself, who moved with unusual suppleness and seemed to be about thirteen. She had a rather flat face, green eyes, a fresh complexion and silky, dark hair.
This little girl suddenly stopped in the doorway, overcome with shyness.
Mademoiselle Aimee turned towards her, laughing:
‘Now then, come along, don’t be frightened: Luce, do you hear?’
So it was her sister!
I had completely forgotten this detail.
She had talked to me about this sister, who would probably be coming to school, in the days when we were friends … It struck me as so funny, her bringing along this little sister, that I pinched Anais, who clucked, and I tickled Marie Belhomme, who miaowed, and I executed a silent two-step behind Mademoiselle Sergent’s back.
Rabastens found these pranks charming and little sister Luce stared at me with her slit-like eyes.
Mademoiselle Aimee began to laugh (she laughs at everything these days, she’s so happy!) and said to me:
‘Now please Claudine, don’t frighten her out of her wits as a start. She’s shy enough by nature as it is.’
‘Mademoiselle, I will protect her like my own personal virtue.
How old is she?’
‘She was fifteen last month.’
‘Fifteen?
Well, after that, I’ll never trust anyone again!
I thought she was a good thirteen.’
The little thing, who had turned quite red, looked down at her feet – they were pretty, too.
She nestled against her sister and clutched her arm for reassurance.
Aha! I’d give her courage!
‘Come along, little girl, come over here to me. Don’t be afraid.
This gentleman, who displays such intoxicating ties in our honour, is our good singing-master.
You’ll only see him on Thursdays and Sundays, unfortunately.
Those big girls there are some of your classmates – you’ll soon get to know them.
As for me, I’m the model pupil, the rarest of all birds. I never get scolded (’strue, isn’t it, Mademoiselle?) and I’m always good, like I am today.
I’ll be a second mother to you!’
Mademoiselle Sergent was amused though she tried not to show it; Rabastens was admiring, and the eyes of the new girl expressed doubts of my sanity.
But I let her alone; I’d had all the fun I wanted with that Luce.
She stayed close to her sister who called her ‘little silly’ and I had lost interest in her.
I asked right out, making no bones about it:
‘Where are you going to put this child to sleep, as nothing’s finished yet?’
‘With me,’ replied Aimee.
I pinched my lips, I looked the Headmistress straight in the face and I said, very distinctly:
‘Frightful bore for you, that!’
Rabastens laughed behind his hand (did he know something?) and emitted the opinion that perhaps we might begin to sing.
Yes, we might; and we actually did sing.
The little new girl dissociated herself completely and remained obstinately mute.
‘You don’t know this music well, Mademoiselle Lanthenay Junior?’ inquired the exquisite Antonin, smiling like a commercial traveller.
‘I know it a little, Sir,’ answered little Luce in a faint, lilting voice that must have been pleasant to hear when it was not strangled with terror.
‘Very well, then?’
Very well, then, nothing.
Why couldn’t he leave the child in peace, that dandy of the Canebiere?
At that very moment, Rabastens whispered to me:
‘Anyway, if these young ladies are tired, I think the singing-lessons are a waste of time!’
I glanced all round me, startled at his audacity in speaking to me under his breath.
But he was right; my companions were occupied with the new girl, coaxing her and speaking gently to her and she was answering happily, quite reassured by finding herself kindly received.
As to that cat Lanthenay and her beloved tyrant, huddled together in the embrasure of the window that looked on to the garden, they had completely forgotten us.
Mademoiselle Sergent had put her arm round Aimee’s waist; they were talking very low – or not talking at all, which came to the same thing.