Désirée Read Free Page B

daughter, can never again be completely extinguished."
    "The Rights of Man can never be annulled, can they Papa?"
    "No, they can never be annulled. But they can be temporarily abrogated, openly or secretly, and trodden underfoot. But those who trample on them will incur the deepest blood-guilt in all history. And whenever and wherever in days to come men rob their brethren of their rights of Liberty and Equality, no one can say for them, 'Father, forgive them for they know not what they do,' because, little daughter after the Declaration of the Rights of Man they will know perfectly well what they are doing!"
    When Papa said that, his voice was quite changed. It sounded—yes, really, it sounded just as I should expect the voice of God to sound. And the longer the time that has passed since that talk with Papa, the better I have understood what he meant. I feel very close to him tonight. I am afraid for Etienne, and a little afraid of the visit to the Town Hall. But at night we are more easily frightened than in the daytime.
    If only I knew whether my life's story will be happy or sad I want ever so much to have some experience out of the ordinary. But first I must find a husband for Julie. And, above all, Etienne must be got somehow out of prison.
    Good night, Papa! You see I have begun to write down my story.
     
    Twenty-four hours later
    I am the disgrace of the family.
    On top of that, so much has happened I've no idea how to get it all down. First of all—Etienne has been released, and is sitting downstairs in the dining room with Mama, Suzanne, and Julie, and he is eating away as if he'd been kept a month on bread and water. Actually he was in prison only three days!
    Secondly, I have met a young man with a very interesting face and the most unpronounceable name—Boonopat, or Bona-part, or something like that. Thirdly, downstairs they're all furious, they call me a disgrace to the family, and they have packed me off to bed.
    They are celebrating Etienne's return, and even though it was my idea to see Albitte, I am being scolded and scolded, and there's no one I can talk to about the future and this Citizen Bounapar. Impossible name, I'll never remember it! There's simply no one I can talk to about this new young man. But my dear good papa must have foreseen how lonely you can be if you are misunderstood by the people around you, and that is why he gave me this diary.
    Today began with one row after another. First Julie told me Mama had decided I was to wear my horrid grey frock, and that of course I must wear a lace fichu tight around my neck. I fought against the fichu, but Julie shrieked, "Do—you —think we shall let you go in a low-necked dress like a—like a girl from the port? Let you go to a government office witho ut a fichu?"
    As soon as Julie had gone I quickly borrowed her little pot of rouge. For my fourteenth birthday I had got a pot of my own, but I hate it, it's such a childish pink. Julie's "Cerise" suits me much better. I dabbed it on carefully, and I though how difficult it must have been for the great ladies in Versailles who used thirteen different shades one on top of an other to get the right effect. I read about it in the newspaper in an article on the Widow Capet, our Queen who was guillotined.
    "My rouge! How often must I tell you not to use my thing without first asking my permission!" said Julie crossly as she came back into the bedroom. I quickly powdered my whole face; then I smoothed my eyebrows and eyelids with a dampened forefinger—they look much nicer when they are a little shiny. Julie sat on the bed and watched me critically. I began to take the paper curlers out of my hair, but they got caught in my curls. I have such horrid, stubborn natural curls it´s a terrible business to coax them into smooth ringlets hanging down to my shoulders.
    We heard Mama's voice outside. "Isn't that child ready yet Julie? We must dine now if Suzanne and Eugénie are to be at the Town Hall by two