Diaz 3

En Secret; Our SOCIETY

"Is it not lovely, Mama?" I asked

"Oui, Ma Cherrie."

"I think you were right, Mama, it is very lovely,...I shall like it here!"

Mama beamed and bid me to go to my cousin, who had been at her needlework for hours, but had put it down. I fancied Mama feared that she was thinking; Mama always bade me to go to those who might be thinking. All the grown-ups became very sad when they thought. I had to agree with Mama: Being in the party was so much nicer than thinking about being away from home.

"Bonjour, Éléonore."

"Hello, Martine."

"Mama fears you were thinking."

"On no...of course I wasn't, I was simply—"

"Is it because the party's almost over?"

"NO! We have plenty of time; They won't make us leave the party for a good long while." Éléonore still looked sad.

"Are you sure? Because one of the Lords talking in the corner said that when they make us leave, we won't be able to go home...that we'll have to go somewhere else. Something about a girl who lives in the square—Éléonore, Why would all of Paris stop to feed a girl who lives in the square?"

"He didn't know what he was saying, Martine. I'm sure he was just trying to scare you."

Ooh, I would have retorted, but the door opened and the grim servants brought in a new comer. "Éléonore, who's that?! Is he going to be with us at the party too? I'd like to meet him, maybe he knows something about Lord Chabot's talk of the great girl in the square!"

"Shhh. Listen, the Comte DuBain is welcoming him."

"In the name of the grandly assembled party of anguish, and cadaverous merriment..." He had lowered his voice.

"Éléonore! Éléonore! He uses too many big words, I don't know what he's saying. Tell me—"

"Shhh!"

The Comte was audible to me again. "May we inquire your name and situation?"

"Charles." The man said. "Charles-Georges, Marquis de Evrémonde." There was a murmur of general acceptation. I had never met Charles-Georges, but his uncle had come to visit me and Mama and I remembered once he brought us a delicacy from the Americas...what was it, Chocolate?

They had their voices lowered. I watched Éléonore do some of her needlework, it was very pretty, a pimpernel flower that grew in troves in our gardens. It wasn't long when the Comte raised his voice for everyone to hear. "I grieve to inform the assembled party of our society: En Secret."

A general assortment of gasps. Mama and the other Ladies shook their heads compassionately. They gave good wishes and encouragement. I was hopelessly lost. Did the Marquis have one of those bad invitations, where he had to go to a room by himself and wait for a better one? That's what Mama told me about Grandpapa. Sometime later, she said he got tired of waiting, and as luck should have it, the grim servants took him away.

The new Marquis made his way across the room, and Ooh, I would have made it to him, but Éléonore caught me round the waist. "Ohhh, no you don't. Monsieur Charles has to wait by himself uninterrupted."

There were more grim looking servants waiting for him at the other door, the one that let to all sorts of sitting rooms where people waited for a different invitation. Mama said that it was very exclusive and that we were very lucky to be here at the party.

Monsieur Charles looked relieved as the door closed.

I wondered why...but then I started to think.

So I tried sewing a little Pimpernel like Éléonore's. It wasn't as good, but since it took so long, I could look at everyone having a grand time at our wonderful, exclusive party.