persuade Etienne to do that," Julie declared, and blew out the candle.
"I don't think so either. A shame, because Napoleone a genius," I said thoughtfully. "But I fear he's not very interested in the silk trade. . . . Good night, Julie."
Julie was almost too late at the registry office. We couldn't find her new gloves and Mama says that one can't be married without gloves. When Mama was young everyone was married in church, but since the Revolution people must be married in a registry office, and not many couples have a church ceremony afterward; it's not easy to find one of the few priests who have taken the oath of allegiance to the Republic. Julie and Joseph didn't want a priest; and for days Mama had talked of nothing but her own white bridal veil which she would like Julie to wear, and about the organ music which "in her day" was part of every wedding service. Julie has a rose-coloured dress with real Brussels lace, and she wore red roses, and Etienne managed to get her some rose-coloured gloves from a business acquaintance in Paris. And we could not find these gloves. The marriage was arranged for ten o'clock in the morning, and just five minutes before ten I found the gloves under Julie's bed. At last Julie hurried off, and in her wake followed Mama and Julie's two witnesses, Etienne and Uncle Somis. Uncle Somis is Mama's brother, who appears whenever there is a family funeral or a wedding. At the registry office Joseph and his two witnesses, Napoleone and Lucien, were waiting for Julie.
I hadn't really had time to dress for I had been off on the g love hunt. So I stood at the window of our room and shouted "Good luck" after Julie, but she didn't hear me. The carriage, decorated with fading white roses from the garden, didn't look in the least like an ordinary hired carriage.
I successfully begged Etienne for some sky-blue satin for a new dress from the shop. And then I insisted that Mlle Lisette, the dressmaker who makes all our clothes, was not to cut the skirt too full. But I'm sorry to say the skirt is not as close-fitting as the skirts in the Paris fashion plates, and I'm laced around the waist and not under my bosom like Mme Tallien in the pictures of her as "Mme de Thermidor," the Goddess of the Revolution. But I think my new dress is very grand; I felt like the Queen of Sheba, dressed up to impress King Solomon. But after all, I'm almost a bride, too, though so far Etienne acts as if my betrothal were merely a disturbance in our garden in the middle of last night.
The guests came before I was ready. Mme Letizia in dark green, her hair, without a trace of white, combed straight back like a peasant's and caught at the nape of her neck; Elisa, thick-set, painted like a tin soldier and wearing all the ribbons she's been wangling out of Etienne for weeks. Beside her Paulette looked like a dainty ivory carving in rose muslin. (Heaven knows why Etienne gave her this material, the most fashionable in the shop.) And Louis, unkempt and obviously in a bad temper; Caroline clean and with her hair carefully done for once; and that dreadful child Jérôme, who immediately demanded something to eat. Suzanne and I served liqueurs to every Buonaparte over fourtee n, and Mme Letizia said she had a surprise for us all.
Wedding present for Julie?" Suzanne asked quickly. For so far, Mme Letizia had not given Julie anything. Of course she is terribly poor, but I think she might at least have done a bit of embroidery for her. However, Mme Letizia shook her head, smiled mysteriously and said, "Oh, no."
We guessed this and that, wondering what she could have brought. At last the secret was out, the surprise was yet another member of the Buonaparte family! Mme Letizia's stepbro ther, an uncle called Fesch, only thirty years old, formerly a priest. But this Uncle Fesch is not a martyr, and in these anticlerical times he has left religion and has become a businessman. "Does he do well in business?" I inquired. Mme Letizia shook her
"I don't think so either. A shame, because Napoleone a genius," I said thoughtfully. "But I fear he's not very interested in the silk trade. . . . Good night, Julie."
Julie was almost too late at the registry office. We couldn't find her new gloves and Mama says that one can't be married without gloves. When Mama was young everyone was married in church, but since the Revolution people must be married in a registry office, and not many couples have a church ceremony afterward; it's not easy to find one of the few priests who have taken the oath of allegiance to the Republic. Julie and Joseph didn't want a priest; and for days Mama had talked of nothing but her own white bridal veil which she would like Julie to wear, and about the organ music which "in her day" was part of every wedding service. Julie has a rose-coloured dress with real Brussels lace, and she wore red roses, and Etienne managed to get her some rose-coloured gloves from a business acquaintance in Paris. And we could not find these gloves. The marriage was arranged for ten o'clock in the morning, and just five minutes before ten I found the gloves under Julie's bed. At last Julie hurried off, and in her wake followed Mama and Julie's two witnesses, Etienne and Uncle Somis. Uncle Somis is Mama's brother, who appears whenever there is a family funeral or a wedding. At the registry office Joseph and his two witnesses, Napoleone and Lucien, were waiting for Julie.
I hadn't really had time to dress for I had been off on the g love hunt. So I stood at the window of our room and shouted "Good luck" after Julie, but she didn't hear me. The carriage, decorated with fading white roses from the garden, didn't look in the least like an ordinary hired carriage.
I successfully begged Etienne for some sky-blue satin for a new dress from the shop. And then I insisted that Mlle Lisette, the dressmaker who makes all our clothes, was not to cut the skirt too full. But I'm sorry to say the skirt is not as close-fitting as the skirts in the Paris fashion plates, and I'm laced around the waist and not under my bosom like Mme Tallien in the pictures of her as "Mme de Thermidor," the Goddess of the Revolution. But I think my new dress is very grand; I felt like the Queen of Sheba, dressed up to impress King Solomon. But after all, I'm almost a bride, too, though so far Etienne acts as if my betrothal were merely a disturbance in our garden in the middle of last night.
The guests came before I was ready. Mme Letizia in dark green, her hair, without a trace of white, combed straight back like a peasant's and caught at the nape of her neck; Elisa, thick-set, painted like a tin soldier and wearing all the ribbons she's been wangling out of Etienne for weeks. Beside her Paulette looked like a dainty ivory carving in rose muslin. (Heaven knows why Etienne gave her this material, the most fashionable in the shop.) And Louis, unkempt and obviously in a bad temper; Caroline clean and with her hair carefully done for once; and that dreadful child Jérôme, who immediately demanded something to eat. Suzanne and I served liqueurs to every Buonaparte over fourtee n, and Mme Letizia said she had a surprise for us all.
Wedding present for Julie?" Suzanne asked quickly. For so far, Mme Letizia had not given Julie anything. Of course she is terribly poor, but I think she might at least have done a bit of embroidery for her. However, Mme Letizia shook her head, smiled mysteriously and said, "Oh, no."
We guessed this and that, wondering what she could have brought. At last the secret was out, the surprise was yet another member of the Buonaparte family! Mme Letizia's stepbro ther, an uncle called Fesch, only thirty years old, formerly a priest. But this Uncle Fesch is not a martyr, and in these anticlerical times he has left religion and has become a businessman. "Does he do well in business?" I inquired. Mme Letizia shook her
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