**Standard Disclaimers apply…
For the next year, Eponine lived with the Comte…her Uncle Erik. She ate meals with him and took walks with him in the forest surrounding his estate. He gave her lessons on math, literature, history, philosophy, and especially music. Madame Devereaux gave her lessons on etiquette and took her shopping for lovely dresses, shoes, gloves, coats, and the like. Madame's husband Monsieur Devereaux ran the stable and gave her lessons on riding horses. At night, after dinner and port, Uncle Erik and Eponine would pass of the day's time in the music room. Eponine had quite a lovely voice, and Uncle Erik would give her singing lessons while he played the violin. Eponine's shoulder prevented her from being a master at the violin, but she took to the piano quite easily, and when they didn't feel in the mood for singing, they played beautiful music together.
When the first year anniversary of that fateful night neared, Eponine was fully cured. Although she was easily susceptible to catch colds, her previously sallow complexion turned healthy and her once malnourished body filled out to reveal that she had a beautiful figure. Her black hair adopted a lovely sheen and she walked with the elegant grace of a cat. Eponine's accent was refined, as were her language, knowledge, and manners. Her singing voice was enchanting, but when she played the piano, she could tear at the heartstrings of the most stoic person.
The entire time that Eponine stayed with her Uncle Erik, she was always careful not to mouth off, which required her to swallow her jagged pride. She succeeded, but she always had a fear of one day being tossed out when it was decided that she had been helped enough. Uncle Erik knew about her abusive and criminal father and mother, and how she was key to many of their thefts and robberies, and she feared that her past would take hold of him and turn him against her. This fear agonized her, tore at her mind, and made it so she could not fully open up to her patient Uncle Erik.
A couple of nights before the anniversary, she went to Uncle Erik's study. She knocked lightly on the door before entering. Uncle Erik was at his desk with a short stack of papers piled neatly in front of him. He was reading one and didn't look up.
"One moment, I'm almost finished," he said distractedly. Finally, with a cough, he looked up. "Ah, Eponine! My dear, are you all right? You don't look very well." He gestured to a chair next to him. "Come, sit by Uncle Erik and tell him what's wrong."
Eponine had kept a regular journal of her time with Uncle Erik. From her very first diary, there is an entry that describes the night she laid bare her thoughts and her consuming love for Marius whom she was sure was dead:
Tonight was the night that I revealed to Uncle Erik my suspicions, my fears, and my entire past. I could no longer take terrible agony of knowing that I will be turned out from his care in the inevitable future. He is so incredibly patient with me. I've owed him the knowledge of my past for so long. Marius was not my brother as I had falsely led him to believe. He is the one true love, the love of all loves, and he belonged to me. As I unfolded my story to him about Marius, Cosette, the letter, the barricade, and the true emotions revealed in the moment when every spoken word counted, he sat there nodding his head from time to time and smoking his pungent cigars. "Uncle Erik, my Marius is dead. He is the only soul who truly loved me! And he told me so, as I lay dying in his arms! I feel like I betrayed him for living when—" I couldn't help the outpouring of tears that stopped me in mid-sentence. My poor Marius! Even at this moment, I cannot see my diary page clearly through the tears that are summoned from the memory of you! Whereas I sat in a pool of sorrowful tears, Uncle Erik's expression was so difficult to read! Marius, your memory was so painful, I couldn't continue on with my confessions with your trace in the air, so I told him about how afraid I was of not being able to find employment or a suitable home once he turned me out to the world once more. My tears were wrung from my body and my miserable past. In a fit of pathetic tears, I cried, "When will it be, Uncle Erik? Do not torture me with abruptness when that fateful day comes! I want to know now…when will I be turned out? When will my history get the better of me, and the suspicions of you?!" I wailed in sorrow, knowing that my outburst had surely done me in. I will be sent away tomorrow. "Good-bye, Eponine. May I never see your God-forsaken face for the rest of my years," I was sure he would say. A little of my old self crept back into me and I put a sly bargain out upon the table. I had heard snippets of conversation from the maids as they worked together in their tasks and I had found out that Uncle Erik was quite a lover in his day. I also found that although he always desired children, he never desired the complications that marriage entailed. Weeping, I pleaded, "Uncle Erik, I know that I am a poor substitute for a daughter. I have a shadowy past and came in to your life, nearly fully grown, but if you'll have me…What I mean to say is, that should you take me in as you would a daughter, I will take your name and become your devoted daughter. When you are sick, I shall care for you. When your eyes hurt, I will read to you. When your ears ache for music, I will sing and play for you. Uncle Erik, I consider you the father I always should have had, and I love you as a daughter loves her father." By now, my tears had stopped, and I was kneeling before him, looking into his clear blue eyes. I was sure I sounded convincing enough…but of course I doubted myself. All he did was chuckle and lean forward and give me a goodnight kiss on the forehead, just as if this night were like any other night. "Off to bed, dear Eponine. It is late." My bargain had been denied! I did as I was told, and when I stood up from my kneeling position, he took hold of my hand and held it between his old weathered ones. His face wore the expression of absolute bliss. He said softly, "Eponine, sleep tonight and do not worry about being turned out. You are my daughter from this night forth." As he pressed my hand against his warm cheek, a small tear fell from his eye. His words and his gesture overwhelmed me. I knew what he said was true. I hugged him for accepting me as his daughter, for alleviating so much of the sorrow I knew, for being so kind and patient and sympathetic…and I hugged him for the tear he shed for me. Let it be known that I am no longer Eponine Thénardier.
I am Eponine de Riqueville.
For the next year, Eponine lived with the Comte…her Uncle Erik. She ate meals with him and took walks with him in the forest surrounding his estate. He gave her lessons on math, literature, history, philosophy, and especially music. Madame Devereaux gave her lessons on etiquette and took her shopping for lovely dresses, shoes, gloves, coats, and the like. Madame's husband Monsieur Devereaux ran the stable and gave her lessons on riding horses. At night, after dinner and port, Uncle Erik and Eponine would pass of the day's time in the music room. Eponine had quite a lovely voice, and Uncle Erik would give her singing lessons while he played the violin. Eponine's shoulder prevented her from being a master at the violin, but she took to the piano quite easily, and when they didn't feel in the mood for singing, they played beautiful music together.
When the first year anniversary of that fateful night neared, Eponine was fully cured. Although she was easily susceptible to catch colds, her previously sallow complexion turned healthy and her once malnourished body filled out to reveal that she had a beautiful figure. Her black hair adopted a lovely sheen and she walked with the elegant grace of a cat. Eponine's accent was refined, as were her language, knowledge, and manners. Her singing voice was enchanting, but when she played the piano, she could tear at the heartstrings of the most stoic person.
The entire time that Eponine stayed with her Uncle Erik, she was always careful not to mouth off, which required her to swallow her jagged pride. She succeeded, but she always had a fear of one day being tossed out when it was decided that she had been helped enough. Uncle Erik knew about her abusive and criminal father and mother, and how she was key to many of their thefts and robberies, and she feared that her past would take hold of him and turn him against her. This fear agonized her, tore at her mind, and made it so she could not fully open up to her patient Uncle Erik.
A couple of nights before the anniversary, she went to Uncle Erik's study. She knocked lightly on the door before entering. Uncle Erik was at his desk with a short stack of papers piled neatly in front of him. He was reading one and didn't look up.
"One moment, I'm almost finished," he said distractedly. Finally, with a cough, he looked up. "Ah, Eponine! My dear, are you all right? You don't look very well." He gestured to a chair next to him. "Come, sit by Uncle Erik and tell him what's wrong."
Eponine had kept a regular journal of her time with Uncle Erik. From her very first diary, there is an entry that describes the night she laid bare her thoughts and her consuming love for Marius whom she was sure was dead:
Tonight was the night that I revealed to Uncle Erik my suspicions, my fears, and my entire past. I could no longer take terrible agony of knowing that I will be turned out from his care in the inevitable future. He is so incredibly patient with me. I've owed him the knowledge of my past for so long. Marius was not my brother as I had falsely led him to believe. He is the one true love, the love of all loves, and he belonged to me. As I unfolded my story to him about Marius, Cosette, the letter, the barricade, and the true emotions revealed in the moment when every spoken word counted, he sat there nodding his head from time to time and smoking his pungent cigars. "Uncle Erik, my Marius is dead. He is the only soul who truly loved me! And he told me so, as I lay dying in his arms! I feel like I betrayed him for living when—" I couldn't help the outpouring of tears that stopped me in mid-sentence. My poor Marius! Even at this moment, I cannot see my diary page clearly through the tears that are summoned from the memory of you! Whereas I sat in a pool of sorrowful tears, Uncle Erik's expression was so difficult to read! Marius, your memory was so painful, I couldn't continue on with my confessions with your trace in the air, so I told him about how afraid I was of not being able to find employment or a suitable home once he turned me out to the world once more. My tears were wrung from my body and my miserable past. In a fit of pathetic tears, I cried, "When will it be, Uncle Erik? Do not torture me with abruptness when that fateful day comes! I want to know now…when will I be turned out? When will my history get the better of me, and the suspicions of you?!" I wailed in sorrow, knowing that my outburst had surely done me in. I will be sent away tomorrow. "Good-bye, Eponine. May I never see your God-forsaken face for the rest of my years," I was sure he would say. A little of my old self crept back into me and I put a sly bargain out upon the table. I had heard snippets of conversation from the maids as they worked together in their tasks and I had found out that Uncle Erik was quite a lover in his day. I also found that although he always desired children, he never desired the complications that marriage entailed. Weeping, I pleaded, "Uncle Erik, I know that I am a poor substitute for a daughter. I have a shadowy past and came in to your life, nearly fully grown, but if you'll have me…What I mean to say is, that should you take me in as you would a daughter, I will take your name and become your devoted daughter. When you are sick, I shall care for you. When your eyes hurt, I will read to you. When your ears ache for music, I will sing and play for you. Uncle Erik, I consider you the father I always should have had, and I love you as a daughter loves her father." By now, my tears had stopped, and I was kneeling before him, looking into his clear blue eyes. I was sure I sounded convincing enough…but of course I doubted myself. All he did was chuckle and lean forward and give me a goodnight kiss on the forehead, just as if this night were like any other night. "Off to bed, dear Eponine. It is late." My bargain had been denied! I did as I was told, and when I stood up from my kneeling position, he took hold of my hand and held it between his old weathered ones. His face wore the expression of absolute bliss. He said softly, "Eponine, sleep tonight and do not worry about being turned out. You are my daughter from this night forth." As he pressed my hand against his warm cheek, a small tear fell from his eye. His words and his gesture overwhelmed me. I knew what he said was true. I hugged him for accepting me as his daughter, for alleviating so much of the sorrow I knew, for being so kind and patient and sympathetic…and I hugged him for the tear he shed for me. Let it be known that I am no longer Eponine Thénardier.
I am Eponine de Riqueville.