talking about.” Madame Coryot, the housekeeper at the Hôtel de Guise, was busy settling the accounts. At first she had no idea what the girl was referring to and was about to put it down to the odd ways of a country lass and dismiss her, but Mathilde was insistent.
“They were her prettiest, and I don’t want anyone to blame me for something I didn’t do.”
“What didn’t you do, girl?” asked Madame Coryot, impatient that the housemaid was speaking in riddles. And she didn’t like to see the lass’s dirty fingernails and her slovenly appearance, both of which had kept the young thing from advancing in the household.
“It’s that Sophie! I saw her take Mademoiselle de Guise’s jeweled slippers the night of the party, and they’re still not back in her cupboard.”
“How did you get into Mademoiselle’s armoire? Sophie keeps it locked…. Perhaps she was taking them to be mended,” said the housekeeper, who had many more important things to do in preparation for the princess’s return to another retreat at Montmartre.
“She wasn’t. Come and see for yourself.”
Madame Coryot was forced to resolve the issue, and to her dismay, discovered that the maid spoke the truth. The armoire had been left unlocked, and the slippers were nowhere to be found. She sent for Sophie.
“What’s this I hear about Mademoiselle’s satin slippers? And why wasn’t the armoire locked?” asked the housekeeper, thinking that Sophie probably had a perfectly reasonable explanation.
“I was doing my mending. I leave the wardrobe open so I can get in and out easily. And the slippers—I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sophie answered, with a black look in the direction of the housemaid.
“Perhaps you’ve forgotten. You apparently took a pair of the princess’s slippers to be mended, and have neglected to bring them back.”
“I know nothing about this matter.” Sophie turned her nose up and folded her arms just beneath her ample breasts.
“Nonetheless, the slippers are not here.”
Sophie was thinking fast. “Perhaps Mathilde took them herself, just so she could blame me. As you see, there are times when I leave the cupboard open.”
Madame Coryot shifted her attention to Mathilde. “Well, what have you to say?”
“I did not! It’s you who’s always giving yourself airs. Probably wore them yourself and ruined them!” Mathilde shrieked at Sophie.
Before she could stop the words from escaping her mouth, Sophie yelled, “You bitch!”
“Sophie! I’ll have no such behavior in this house. What if Mademoiselle should hear you? Profanity is strictly forbidden here. Whatever has become of the slippers, I cannot leave this outburst unpunished. I expected more from the princess’s personal maid. Put your hands upon the desk.”
Madame Coryot took up a willow switch that she kept for purposes of disciplining the staff and began caning Sophie.
As soon as she felt the sting of the switch, Sophie jumped away from the housekeeper. “Don’t you dare touch me! I am Sophie Dupin! I have powerful friends!”
This was too much for Madame Coryot, who wished that Mathilde was not there to witness Sophie’s impudence—better yet, wished the matter of the slippers had never been raised. “Then you may rely on your powerful friends to give you the means to live. You are dismissed from this household.” She rang for a footman.
“Don’t bother to throw me out. I wouldn’t stay here if you begged me!” With that, Sophie left the Hôtel de Guise.
Why didn’t I just tell her the whole story? Sophie berated herself as she strode out into the cold January afternoon. The answer to that was simple enough. She should never have taken the slippers and would probably have been dismissed for that act anyway. All she had wanted to do was help out poor Émilie, who, like Sophie, had been given a chance to make something of herself despite her humble origins.
She probably doesn’t have a
“They were her prettiest, and I don’t want anyone to blame me for something I didn’t do.”
“What didn’t you do, girl?” asked Madame Coryot, impatient that the housemaid was speaking in riddles. And she didn’t like to see the lass’s dirty fingernails and her slovenly appearance, both of which had kept the young thing from advancing in the household.
“It’s that Sophie! I saw her take Mademoiselle de Guise’s jeweled slippers the night of the party, and they’re still not back in her cupboard.”
“How did you get into Mademoiselle’s armoire? Sophie keeps it locked…. Perhaps she was taking them to be mended,” said the housekeeper, who had many more important things to do in preparation for the princess’s return to another retreat at Montmartre.
“She wasn’t. Come and see for yourself.”
Madame Coryot was forced to resolve the issue, and to her dismay, discovered that the maid spoke the truth. The armoire had been left unlocked, and the slippers were nowhere to be found. She sent for Sophie.
“What’s this I hear about Mademoiselle’s satin slippers? And why wasn’t the armoire locked?” asked the housekeeper, thinking that Sophie probably had a perfectly reasonable explanation.
“I was doing my mending. I leave the wardrobe open so I can get in and out easily. And the slippers—I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sophie answered, with a black look in the direction of the housemaid.
“Perhaps you’ve forgotten. You apparently took a pair of the princess’s slippers to be mended, and have neglected to bring them back.”
“I know nothing about this matter.” Sophie turned her nose up and folded her arms just beneath her ample breasts.
“Nonetheless, the slippers are not here.”
Sophie was thinking fast. “Perhaps Mathilde took them herself, just so she could blame me. As you see, there are times when I leave the cupboard open.”
Madame Coryot shifted her attention to Mathilde. “Well, what have you to say?”
“I did not! It’s you who’s always giving yourself airs. Probably wore them yourself and ruined them!” Mathilde shrieked at Sophie.
Before she could stop the words from escaping her mouth, Sophie yelled, “You bitch!”
“Sophie! I’ll have no such behavior in this house. What if Mademoiselle should hear you? Profanity is strictly forbidden here. Whatever has become of the slippers, I cannot leave this outburst unpunished. I expected more from the princess’s personal maid. Put your hands upon the desk.”
Madame Coryot took up a willow switch that she kept for purposes of disciplining the staff and began caning Sophie.
As soon as she felt the sting of the switch, Sophie jumped away from the housekeeper. “Don’t you dare touch me! I am Sophie Dupin! I have powerful friends!”
This was too much for Madame Coryot, who wished that Mathilde was not there to witness Sophie’s impudence—better yet, wished the matter of the slippers had never been raised. “Then you may rely on your powerful friends to give you the means to live. You are dismissed from this household.” She rang for a footman.
“Don’t bother to throw me out. I wouldn’t stay here if you begged me!” With that, Sophie left the Hôtel de Guise.
Why didn’t I just tell her the whole story? Sophie berated herself as she strode out into the cold January afternoon. The answer to that was simple enough. She should never have taken the slippers and would probably have been dismissed for that act anyway. All she had wanted to do was help out poor Émilie, who, like Sophie, had been given a chance to make something of herself despite her humble origins.
She probably doesn’t have a
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