My Double Life | Page 8

a flannel gown
and wait in my room until my dinner came. Soup was sent up, and then
meat, bread, and water. I detested meat then, just as I do now, and
threw it out of the window after cutting off the fat, which I put on the
rim of my plate, as my aunt used to come up unexpectedly.
"Have you eaten your dinner, Mademoiselle?" she would ask.

"Yes, Aunt," I replied.
"Are you still hungry?"
"No, Aunt."
"Write out 'Our Father' and the 'Creed' three times, you little heathen."
This was because I had not been baptized. A quarter of an hour later my
uncle would come upstairs.
"Have you had enough dinner?" he would ask.
"Yes, Uncle," I replied.
"Did you eat your meat?"
"No; I threw it out of the window. I don't like meat."
"You told your aunt an untruth, then."
"No; she asked me if I had eaten my dinner, and I answered that I had,
but I did not say that I had eaten my meat."
"What punishment has she given you?"
"I am to write out 'Our Father' and the 'Creed' three times before going
to bed."
"Do you know them by heart?"
"No, not very well; I make mistakes always."
And the adorable man would then dictate to me "Our Father" and the
"Creed," and I copied it in the most devoted way, as he used to dictate
with deep feeling and emotion. He was religious, very religious indeed,
this uncle of mine, and after the death of my aunt he became a
Carthusian monk. As I write these lines, ill and aged as he is, and bent
with pain, I know he is digging his own grave, weak with the weight of
the spade, imploring God to take him, and thinking sometimes of me,

of his little Bohemian. Ah, the dear, good man, it is to him that I owe
all that is best in me. I love him devotedly and have the greatest respect
for him. How many times in the difficult phases of my life I have
thought of him and consulted his ideas, for I never saw him again, as
my aunt quarrelled purposely with my mother and me. He was always
fond of me, though, and has told his friends to assure me of this.
Occasionally, too, he has sent me his advice, which has always been
very straightforward and full of indulgence and common sense.
Recently I went to the country where the Carthusians have taken refuge.
A friend of mine went to see my uncle, and I wept on hearing the words
he had dictated to be repeated to me.
To return to my story. After my uncle's visit, Marie, the gardener's
daughter, came to my room, looking quite indifferent, but with her
pockets stuffed with apples, biscuits, raisins, and nuts. My cousin had
sent me some dessert, but she, the good-hearted girl, had cleared all the
dessert dishes. I told her to sit down and crack the nuts, and I would eat
them when I had finished my "Lord's Prayer" and "Creed." She sat
down on the floor, so that she could hide everything quickly under the
table in case my aunt returned. But my aunt did not come again, as she
and her daughter used to spend their evenings at the piano, whilst my
uncle taught his son mathematics.
Finally, my mother wrote to say that she was coming. There was great
excitement in my uncle's house, and my little trunk was packed in
readiness.
The Grand-Champs Convent, which I was about to enter, had a
prescribed uniform, and my cousin, who loved sewing, marked all my
things with the initials S.B. in red cotton. My uncle gave me a silver
spoon, fork, and goblet, and these were all marked 32, which was the
number under which I was registered there. Marie gave me a thick
woollen muffler in shades of violet, which she had been knitting for me
in secret for several days. My aunt put round my neck a little scapulary
which had been blessed, and when my mother and father arrived
everything was ready.

A farewell dinner was given, to which two of my mother's friends,
Aunt Rosine, and four other members of the family were invited.
I felt very important. I was neither sad nor gay, but had just this feeling
of importance which was quite enough for me. Every one at table
talked about me; my uncle kept stroking my hair, and my cousin from
her end of the table threw me kisses. Suddenly my father's musical
voice made me turn towards him.
"Listen to me, Sarah," he said. "If you are very good at the convent, I
will come in four years and fetch you away, and you shall