AllFreeNovel
Share Us
"Here now, wot's all this fuss about?" Brigid puts her hands on her hips. "Wot you got there? Move aside and lemme see."
Reluctantly, we obey. "Wot on earth is this?" Brigid holds up a statuette of the world's ugliest cancan dancer, formerly a cupid with br**sts.
"It's the latest from Paris," Felicity says coolly.
Brigid puts it back in the alcove. "Belongs on the rubbish heap, if you ask me."
She moves on and we're all giggles again.
"It was the best I could manage," Pippa says. "Under the circumstances."
Every head turns when we arrive for breakfast and take our places at the long table. Cecily can't stop staring at Ann.
"Ann, is that a new dress?" she asks between bites of her bacon. We've come late so there's only porridge.
"No," Ann answers.
"Did you change your hair, then?"
Ann shakes her head.
"Well, it's an improvement, whatever it is." This makes the rest of the girls titter. Cecily goes right back to her bacon.
Felicity puts her spoon down hard. "You're very rude, Cecily. Did you know that? I think it would be best if you just didn't say anything else today."
Cecily opens her mouth to reprimand Felicity, but no words come. She can barely speak above a whisper. Her hands fly to her throat.
"Cecily, what's the matter?" Elizabeth hands her some water.
"Cat's got her tongue," Felicity says, smirking.
"Fee, you have to give Cecily her voice back at some point," Pippa chides as we make our way to French.
Felicity nods. "I know. But you must admitit is an improvement."
Mademoiselle LeFarge has a particularly sadistic smile on her face when we arrive. It doesn't bode well.
" Bonjour, mes filles . Today we will have a conversation to test your French."
A conversation class. I am the absolute worst at this, and I wonder how long I can make myself unnoticeable.
Elizabeth raises a hand. "Mademoiselle, our Cecily has lost her voice." "Has she? That was very sudden, Mademoiselle Temple."
Cecily tries again to speak but it's useless. Ann gives her a small smile and Cecily looks positively terrified. She buries her nose in her book.
"Very well," Mademoiselle LeFarge says. "Mademoiselle Doyle, you shall go first."
I'm in for it now. Please, please, please let me keep up . My stomach is aflutter. This may be the day that Mademoiselle LeFarge gives me the boot down to the lower classes. She bats a question about the Seine into my court, waits for my response. When I open my mouth, we are all astonished. I'm speaking French like a Parisian, and I find I know a great deal about the Seine. And France's geography. Its monarchy. The Revolution. I'm feeling so clever that I want to go on for the whole of the period, but finally Mademoiselle LeFarge recovers from her shock, breaking her own rules in the process.
"That was remarkable, Mademoiselle Doyle! Truly remarkable," she gasps in English. "As you can see, ladies, when you are willing to apply yourselves, the results speak for themselves! Mademoiselle Doyle, today you shall receive thirty good-conduct marksa record for my class!"
Someone should probably close Martha's, Cecily's, and Elizabeth's mouths before the rains come and drown them like turkeys.
"What do we do now?" Pippa whispers as we take our seats for Grunewald's instruction.
"I think it's Ann's turn," I say.
Ann's face falls. "M-me? I d-d-don't know"
