Jeanne would welcome us when we went up so I supposed we were making good progress.

There was a sudden change in Armand. He seemed to have become almost lively and there was a new sparkle in his eyes. It was as though he were taking a new and sudden interest in life.

I mentioned it to my father when I was sitting with him in the small room of his own apartments which he regarded as his very private sanctum. I was one of the few who were invited to join him there.

When I mentioned Armand, he smiled and said: ‘Yes, he has changed. So you noticed. He really is getting quite enthusiastic about this project.’

‘Has he a project then?’

‘Yes. Perhaps he is rather over-reacting. But on the other hand, it is a change to see him really getting interested in something. He is gathering together quite a little band of his friends. He was deeply affected, you know, by what …’ My father faltered and went on briskly: ‘By what happened to your mother.’

I nodded.

‘He has always had strong feelings about the rights of those born in high places and what happened was an outrage against his class.’

‘So it was that which affected him so deeply, not … ’

‘Armand’s feelings for people do not go very deep. But he can feel strongly for causes. People are like that. Have you noticed? Those who campaign on behalf of the masses very often have little feeling for the individuals. Armand is such a one. So what deeply affected him was the outrage against class. It has stirred him to action, and he is gathering together a number of his friends with some scheme in mind for forming an armed band to deal with those agitators who are making speeches in the towns. They seem to be the ones who are stirring up trouble. Indeed it was one of those … ’

I put my hand over my father’s. ‘Don’t talk of it,’ I said.

‘You are right. I should stop myself. It brings it all back more vividly. We were saying that Armand had changed and it is a change for the better. It is good to know that he can show some spirit about something. I thought he never could.’

‘What do they plan to do?’

‘I don’t quite know. When they find these agitators speaking to the people they will attempt to answer them … and if there is trouble they will be ready to deal with it.’

‘There really is a great deal of trouble in the country, I fear,’ I said.

‘That is so, my dear. Sometimes I say to myself as our King did, “Perhaps after me the deluge.” But it won’t come to that. There are men like Armand all over the country. They would soon deal with a revolt. Sometimes I wish it would come to the boil so that we could deal with it. It is these undercurrents, these subversive attempts to undermine law and order, which terrify me.’

I could see that the subject was dangerously near that one which could bring back such poignant memories and although they were never far from the surface of his mind I wanted to stop his plunging into them. So I talked of Charlot and asked how he was getting on with his chess which my father was teaching him.

‘Not bad … not bad at all. He lacks the necessary concentration … but he might play one day.’

‘He enjoys being with you.’

‘He likes best to talk about the castle.’ My father smiled. ‘I have had to look up our family history to satisfy him.’

‘Claudine likes too to get into this room.’

‘Ah, Claudine. She is a minx.’

There was no doubt what the children’s presence meant to him. How could I ever go to Dickon and take them away from him!

I vowed to myself that I would never leave Aubigné while my father lived.

The castle had its effect on Lisette. I realized that before we came here there had been a vague dissatisfaction in her manner. She had never talked about her farmer husband and I had not asked because I had quickly understood that that period of her life was something of which she did not wish to be reminded. It had brought her Louis-Charles, it was true, but although she was ambitious for him, she did not show him a great deal of tenderness.

But since we had returned to the castle she had become more like the old Lisette whom I had known when we were young girls. She used to come to my room to dress my hair and we had a great deal of fun trying out new hairstyles. At Court, under the influence of the most extravagant of queens, they were becoming more and more ridiculous. Ladies vied with each other to build up these towers of folly on their heads, using jewels, feathers and stuffed birds. Lisette amused herself by trying out ideas on her own and my hair.

I had always been fond of her but since my father had told me the pathetic story of her beginnings, I felt tender towards her, and when she was laughing and talking with me I often used to wonder what her life would have been like but for my father.

We talked about everything that came into our heads. We often discussed the children and I told her that now that they were growing up my father wanted to find a good tutor for the boys.

‘We can manage Claudine for a little while yet,’ she said, ‘but boys in their teens certainly do need a tutor.’

‘I dare say my father will find someone soon. He is waiting really until he goes to Paris and then he can make enquiries in certain quarters. He is most anxious to find the right sort of person.’

‘That is very important. And this tutor … he will teach Louis-Charles as well?’

‘But of course.’

I glanced at Lisette in the mirror. Her mouth had that old square look which I had noticed before. I construed it as a form of bitterness. She was very proud, I knew, and hated to accept charity.

I said quickly: ‘It is good for Charlot to have a companion round about his own age. I am so glad you had a son, Lisette.’

‘He certainly made a lot worth while.’ She had recovered and was smiling.

‘Armand seems to have changed lately,’ she added.

‘Oh yes, he has a project. The Comte was telling me about it.’

‘A project? What sort of project?’

‘Well, you know there is some concern about what is happening in the country.’

‘Is there?’ said Lisette.

‘Lisette, you must give some serious attention to these matters.’

‘Why?’

‘Because they concern you.’

‘How could they concern me?

‘Remember my mother.’

‘Oh yes,’ said Lisette quietly.

‘There was an agitator in the town. It was his talk which aroused the fury of the mob.’

‘I know. Don’t talk about it. I can’t bear it. Your mother was such a charming … good lady.’

‘Apparently these agitators are travelling round the country. They are men with a gift for words. Well, people are getting rather worried about it. Even Armand.’

‘Even Armand!’ She echoed my words.

‘Yes, he and some friends are getting together apparently.’

‘What are they going to do?’

‘They will try to do something about it. I don’t know what.’

‘Oh … I see. Armand has certainly changed. He seems to have found something he can really care about.’

‘Armand was incensed by what happened to my mother. It evidently stirred him.’

‘To a hatred of the rabble?’

‘He always had that. But this brought home to him how much damage they could do. Well, he and his friends are getting together and they are going to do something. I think it’s a good thing, don’t you?’

‘That people should be aware of what is going on, yes.’

‘Dickon is always talking about it.’

‘Dickon! I thought when he was here he talked of other things!’

‘He does, but he talks a good deal about the state of affairs in France as well.’

‘What does he—the Englishman—know of French affairs?’

‘He seems to make it his business to find out.’

‘Does he tell you what he finds out?’

‘No. It is all rather secret, I gather. I accuse him of being on some mission.’

‘It would be against France, I suppose.’

‘I don’t know. He won’t talk of it.’

‘He is a fascinating man. I don’t know how you can resist him.’

I was very frank with Lisette as I had been in the past and I admitted that sometimes it was not easy.

She understood.

‘What if you married him?’ she said.

‘I have sworn never to leave my father.’

‘He would not wish you to stay, surely, if you would be happier married.’

‘It would be too much for him. If he knew I wanted to go he would say I should, I know. Think of it. I should take the children with me. It would be too cruel.’

‘And me … ? Would you take me with you?’

‘But of course you would come. You and Louis-Charles.’

‘I think the Comte is a little bit fond of Louis-Charles. Do you agree?’

‘I am sure he is. Louis-Charles is a delightful boy.’

‘I fancy I see the Comte’s eyes on him now and then, which is rather strange, don’t you think?’

‘No, I don’t. The Comte likes lively children. He is desperately missing my mother and the best thing that can happen to him is to have children in the house.’

‘His own … yes. But the way in which he looks at Louis-Charles … ’

‘Oh, Lisette, stop being so obsessed.’

‘With what?’ she asked sharply.

‘With position. You are always remembering that you are the niece of the housekeeper.’

‘Well, am I not?’

‘Yes, but it is not important.’

‘It is … now,’ she answered. ‘If those agitators had their way, perhaps it would be a good thing to be the niece of the housekeeper and not such a good thing to be the daughter of a Comte.’

‘What an absurd conversation! How do you think my hair would look with this green feather stuck in it at a ridiculous angle?’

‘Very amusing … and far more important than all this talk about boring matters.’ She snatched the green feather from me. ‘Here! Let’s put it there, so that it sticks right up at the back. Isn’t that grand?’

I gazed at my image in the mirror and grimaced at Lisette, who was watching me with her head on one side.

About a week later we had a visit from the Duc de Soissonson. This was quite unexpected and put the household in a turmoil.

Tante Berthe complained that she should have been told and immediately set to work ordering her staff in her usual efficient and peremptory manner. They were busy in the kitchens. The cook plunged into her prodigious memory and remembered that when the Duc had last stayed at the château, which was twelve years before, he had shown a preference for a very special potage, the recipe for which was a guarded secret known only to her family.

In appearance the Duc was quite insignificant, in spite of his wealth which I gathered was immense, and his influence in the country was also great.

He chided my father for not visiting Paris nowadays.

‘I heard what happened to the Comtesse,’ he said. ‘A sorry business. This rabble … I wish we could do something about them. Did they find the ringleaders?’

My father, with great emotion, said that they had been unable to trace the agitator who was the real villain. It was impossible to accuse a mob. They had rioted and in the mêlée the horses had been frightened and the carriage overturned.

‘We ought to put a stop to it,’ said the Duc. ‘Don’t you agree?’

‘With all my heart,’ answered my father. ‘If I could find those responsible … ’

I wanted to beg the Duc not to talk about it.

We sat down to dine in the great hall of the castle. Tante Berthe and the cooks had certainly made sure that all the culinary and domestic arrangements ran smoothly and I was sure there could not have been more attention to detail in the ducal establishment itself.

The Duc, however, did not stand on ceremony. He was friendly and easy-going and conversation at the table was far from stilted.

Inevitably it drifted to the troubles in France and my heart sank as I looked at my father.

‘Something should be done about it,’ said Armand. I noticed he was eyeing the Duc speculatively and I wondered whether he was contemplating asking him to join his band. ‘These fellows are getting really dangerous.’

‘I agree,’ said the Duc. ‘Something should be done. But what, my dear fellow, what?’

‘Well, we should stand together … those of us who want to keep law and order.’

‘Stand together … that is the idea,’ cried the Duc.

‘We are not going to stand idly by,’ Armand told him.

‘Certainly not!’ went on the Due. ‘Nice boys you have here, Comte. I watched them from my window. Grandsons, I suppose.’