Joseph, on telling me this, warned me to make sure he was never alone with any of the aunts again.

"They have always behaved a little oddly," I told him.

"Indeed it is so, but they count for nothing in this Court. It is the others of whom you must be watchful. Provence, cold as a snake, and his intriguer of a wife. The other one is too frivolous and his company is not good for you. He is the only one who can beget children and when I have shown your husband how to overcome his infirmity and you become pregnant, it would be as well not to have been too friendly with Artois. You are too much in his company. It could give rise to talk."

I a.s.sured my brother that I did not exactly like Artois; but he was the gayest member of the family and he and I enjoyed the same kind of pastimes. He could always amuse me and I so badly needed to be amused.

"Tut tut tut," said Joseph. "You will have to learn that there is more in life than amus.e.m.e.nt."

Joseph's pontifical manner was beginning to tire us all. I wished that he had been a little frivolous, that he would gamble and lose heavily, that he would show some interest in the lighter amus.e.m.e.nts of the Court. But that was quite foreign to his nature.

As the days pa.s.sed he took to criticizing me in front of my women, which I did not like. He would wander in when I was at my toilette and show disapproval of my elaborate gowns. When my rouge was being applied he looked on with cynical amus.e.m.e.nt. I might have retorted that it was as necessary to wear rouge as Court dress. Even Campan, when she had first come to Court as the humble lectrice, had been obliged to wear it.

He glanced at one of my attendants who was very highly rouged and said: "A little more. A little more. Put it on furiously like Madame here."

I was so annoyed about this that I determined to ask my brother to spare me his criticisms in front of people. When we were alone, I did not mind what he said, but it was certainly undignified for the Queen of France to be reprimanded before her subjects as though she were a child. What could be more damaging to her prestige than that?

Smarting with indignity, I sat before my mirror while Monsieur Leonard dressed my hair.

"Ah, Madame," he said, "we will have such a confection that the Emperor himself must admire it."

I smiled at Leonard in the mirror and as he proceeded to excel himself Joseph, with his usual lack of ceremony, strolled in.

"Brother, do you like this style?" I asked.

"Yes," he answered in a bored tone.

"You do not sound very enthusiastic. You are thinking that it is unbecoming?"

"Do you wish me to speak frankly?"

"When, Joseph, did you not?"

"Very well. I think it is over fragile to carry a crown."

Monsieur Leonard looked as though my brother had been guilty of the greatest lese majeste possible; my attendants and friends were shocked that my brother should speak to me thus in their presence, for on this occasion he was not so much criticizing my headdress as myself as the Queen of France.

When I remonstrated with him, he replied: "I am an outspoken man. I cannot prevaricate. I say what I mean."

I had deplored artifice, the artifice of French conversation, but a few weeks of Joseph's company made me long for it.

Mercy was made a little uneasy by the manner in which Joseph was behaving. I imagined that Kaunitz had tried to advise my brother how to deal with me, and my brother of course would accept advice from no one. Joseph had forgotten that seven years had pa.s.sed since I left Austria; he saw me still as the silly little girl, his baby sister.

Joseph himself told me that Kaunitz had prepared a written doc.u.ment of the instructions he was to pa.s.s on to me. "But I have no need of doc.u.ments," said my brother. "I am here to see you and talk to you. And I have a firsthand knowledge of the scene."

So he continued to advise us; and he did make some impression; he made me see how I was grieving my mother by my conduct; he impressed on me the folly of my ways. He had been among the people of Paris; he had seen hardship and poverty. What did I think these people would feel when they knew of my extravagances. He moved me to tears of repentance.

"I will be different, Joseph," I said. "Pray tell my mother than she must not worry. I will be more serieuse. I promise."

And I meant it.

It was unfortunate that when he accompanied me to the apartments of the Princesse de Guemenee, there should have been a scene. He had been reluctant to go, but I had persuaded him. They were playing faro and the free manners between the s.e.xes shocked my brother; their conversation sparkled, but it was a little risque and, most unfortunate of all, Madame de Guemenee was accused of cheating.

Joseph wished to leave.

"It's nothing but a gaming h.e.l.l," he declared; and there followed a long lecture on the dangers of gambling. I must give up gambling. No good could come of it. I must choose my friends with greater care.

Everything we did seemed to be the excuse for a lecture, but we listened to Joseph and, like so many of his kind, much of what he said was right and true.

He was often closeted with my husband, for the purpose of his visit had been to strengthen Austro-French relations and, of course, that other matter.

I did not know what he said to my husband, but I have no doubt that he pointed out his duty, that he told him of the dangers of a Monarchy that could not produce heirs. Artois had a son; but Provence would come before him. There were jealousies and antagonisms when the succession was not from father to son.

Joseph himself had no son, but he would not allow this fact to interfere with his lecture to the King on his duties. And Louis admitted to him that what he longed for more than anything was to have children.

His visit was of the utmost importance, for he extracted from Louis the promise that he would not allow this unsatisfactory state of affairs to continue. Something must be done and Louis would see that it was.

He left at the end of May, having been with us since mid-April.

His parting words to me were that I was too frivolous and featherheaded for him to be able to make much headway with me in conversation; I so deplorably lacked the power of concentration. This was true, I was well aware. Therefore, he had written his "instructions" and I was to study them carefully after his departure.

Oddly enough, much as he had irritated me, now that he was going I was filled with sorrow. He was a part of my home and childhood; he had brought back so many memories. He had talked of our mother and brought her closer to me. I wept bitterly to part with him.

He embraced us warmly - both myself and the King. And when he had gone, Louis turned to me and said with the utmost tenderness: "During his visit we were together more often and for longer periods. Therefore I owe him a debt of grat.i.tude."

It was a charming compliment; and there was a new purpose in my husband's eyes.

When I was alone, I read Joseph's instructions. There were pages of them.

"You are grown up now and no longer can be excused on account of being a child. What will happen to you if you hesitate? Has it ever occurred to you to ask yourself? An unhappy woman is an unhappy Queen. Do you look for opportunities? Do you sincerely respond to the affection the King shows to you? Are you cool or distrait when he caresses you? Do you appear bored or disgusted? If this is so, can it be expected that a man of cold temperament could make advances and love you with pa.s.sion?"

I thought about this seriously. Was it true? Joseph for all his pomposity was a shrewd observer. Had I betrayed my feelings? For often I did experience these emotions when the King approached me.

Joseph went on to criticize me in the light of his observations.

"Do you ever give way to his wishes and suppress your own? Do you try to convince him that you love him? Do you make any sacrifice for his sake?"

There were pages about my conduct toward my husband of which he was highly critical. He blamed me for the state of affairs, yet while implying that I was not responsible for my husband's infirmity, he hinted that it might have been overcome by sympathy and understanding on my part.

My relationships with certain people at Court were a scandal. I had a genius for attaching the wrong kind of people to myself.

"Have you ever troubled to think of the effect which your friendships and intimacies may have upon the public? ... Bear in mind that the King never plays games of chance and therefore it is scandalous for you to give such bad customs your patronage ... Then think of the contretemps you have had at the opera b.a.l.l.s. I suggest that of all your amus.e.m.e.nts this is the most dangerous and unseemly, especially as your escort on these occasions, as you tell me, is your brother-in-law, who counts for nothing. What use then is there in going incognito and pretending you are someone else ..."

I smiled. What use, brother Joseph, in your disguises? I could hear his voice, a little pained at the frivolity of the question. My disguise is to prevent people knowing who their benefactor is; yours to seek wild and dangerous pleasure.

"Do you honestly believe you are not recognized?"

Not always, dear Brother - no more than you do!

"Everyone knows who you are and when you are masked, people make comments which should not be made in your presence and say things which are not suitable for you to hear ... Why do you wish to rub shoulders with a crowd of libertines? You do not go there simply to dance. Why this unseemliness ... The King is left alone at night at Versailles while you mix with the canaille of Paris."

Had I forgotten my mother's advice? Had she not, ever since I left Vienna, been imploring me to improve my mind? I should take up reading ... serious reading of course. I should read for two hours a day at the very least.

Then he said a strange thing, used a strange word which I was to remember later: "In truth, I tremble for your happiness because I believe that in the long run things cannot continue as they are now ... The revolution will be a cruel one and perhaps of your own making."

He did not underline that terrible word. I do it now.

It did occur to me then that that was an odd expression, but now I can see the paper clearly and the word seems to jump out of the page ... written in red, the color of blood.

I did try to improve my ways after Joseph had left. I knew he was right; I should not gamble; I should try to be more serious. I even tried reading.

I wrote to my mother that I was following my brother's good counsels. "I bear them written on my heart," I said extravagantly. I did not go to the theater very often; I went even less to the opera b.a.l.l.s; and I tried to like hunting; in any case I went with my husband on several occasions; I was always careful to be gracious to the centenarians and the bundles.

I was really trying very hard.

So was Louis.

He kept his promise to Joseph and the little operation was performed. It was a success.

We were delighted. I wrote to my mother: I have attained the happiness which is of the greatest importance in my entire life ... My marriage was thoroughly consummated. Yesterday the attempt was repeated and was even more successful than the first time. I thought at first of sending a special messenger to my beloved mother, but I was afraid this might arouse too much gossip ... I don't think I am with child yet, but I have hopes of becoming so at any moment.

The change in my husband was great. He was delighted; he behaved like a lover; he wished to be with me all the time; nor was I eager to avoid him. I kept saying to myself: Soon my dream will come true. I have now as much chance as any other woman of becoming a mother.

Louis said he must write to my brother, to whom we owed all this.

"I hope that next year will not go by, without my giving you a nephew or niece ... It is to you we owe this happiness."

The news was going all round the courts. The aunts insisted that they hear all about it. Adelaide was in a mood of great excitement and she explained everything in detail to her sisters.

Louis had mentioned to Aunt Adelaide in a rush of confidence: "I find the pleasure very great and I regret that so long a time has pa.s.sed without my being able to enjoy it."

The King was excessively cheerful; the Court looked on with interest and made bets as to when there would be proof of the newly acquired royal virility. Provence and his wife tried to hide their annoyance, but I was aware of it. Artois mischievously tried to provoke Provence while he made jesting references behind our backs to the King's newly acquired prowess.

Our lives were certainly at the mercy of those about us. There was no privacy. It was noted that I looked tired in the mornings, which provoked t.i.tters and furtive observation. Everyone was watchful.

I did not care.

I was longing for the day when I could announce that I was about to become a mother.

CHAPTER 13.

"Madame, my dear mother, my first impulse, which I regret not having followed some weeks ago, was to write to you of my hopes. I stopped myself when I thought of the sadness it would cause you if my hopes proved false ..."

-Marie Antoinette to Maria Theresa " ... the torrents of inquisitive people who poured into the chamber were so great and tumultuous that the rush was near destroying the Queen. During the night the King had taken the precaution to have the enormous tapestry screens which surrounded her Majesty's bed, secured with cord. Had it not been for this foresight, they would most certainly have been thrown upon her."

"The windows were caulked up; the King opened them with a strength which his affection for the Queen gave him at that moment."

-Madame Campan's Memoirs "We must have a Dauphin. We need a Dauphin and an heir to the throne."

-Maria Theresa to Marie Antoinette The Arrival of Madame Royale EACH DAY I THOUGHT OF my new hopes. I longed for a sign that I was pregnant. I tried hard to follow Joseph's instructions and considered what would please my husband. He was equally attentive. At least we both desired the same thing. I dreamed about my own little Dauphin. When I had him, I would ask nothing more of life. My desire for a child was a burning intensity.

That August I gave a fete at Trianon, setting up a fair in the gardens with stalls; I allowed the shopkeepers of Paris to bring their stalls in the gardens and I myself took on the role of limonadiere and was dressed as a waitress in the most delightful muslin and lace specially created for me by my ever-accommodating Rose Bertin. Everyone declared that they had never seen such a limonadiere and they hurried to be served by me. I and my ladies felt it was the greatest fun in the world to serve lemonade. The King was constantly at my side and everyone noticed how tenderly we behaved toward each other.

All through that year I hoped and dreamed and nothing happened. I began to wonder whether it ever would. I would have little Armand brought to me each morning; he delighted me, for he had grown very affectionate and his great blue eyes would look so mournful when I had to leave him; but he always made me long more than ever for a child of my own.

Perhaps, I thought gloomily as the year came to its close, even though our marriage has been consummated, it may not be fruitful.

I was in despair. I sought the old pleasures to console myself. Artois was always at my side determined to bring me out of my solemn mood, he told me, and make me enjoy life again. Let us disguise ourselves; let us go to the opera ball.

It was carnival time and I longed to go to the ball, but when my husband asked me if I were going, I said No, because I believed he would prefer I did not. He hastily replied that he would not dream of keeping me from my pleasure and that I should go to the ball as long as I was accompanied by the Comte de Provence. So I started dancing again. I began visiting the Princesse de Guemenee's apartment and playing heavily. Joseph's warnings were forgotten and I was back with the old bad habits.

We played games and tricks together and on each other. Artois was always playing practical jokes and I and the Prince de Ligne decided to play one on him. We often had music in the Orangery and very high up in a niche on the wall, there was a bust of Louis XIV. When the concert was over and we were leaving the Orangery, Artois always bowed low to this statue and cried: "Bonsoir, Granpere." I thought it would give him a shock if the statue answered, so I arranged that we should get a ladder and the Prince de Ligne should climb up to the statue; we would then remove the ladder and the Prince would answer Artois in deep serious tones.

We were convulsed with laughter thinking how alarmed Artois would be believing that he had called the shade of his great and formidable ancestor from his grave by his frivolous raillery.

However the Prince refused at the last moment because he had been told by one of his friends that someone had decided to carry the joke a bit further by refusing to bring the ladder back by which he would descend, so that he would not be able to get down.

The Prince had no great desire to spend the night high up in the Orangery with the bust of Louis XIV and the joke fell through. But that was the sort of life we were leading.

And when I was in the depth of my despair believing I should never have a child, to my great joy I guessed I might be pregnant. I was so excited I could scarcely go about my normal affairs. I was terrified that I might be wrong; and I was determined I was not going to say anything until I was sure. Everyone watched me expectantly at first, now they ceased to do so; and I was glad of it.

I did not want to do anything but dream about the child. I pretended to be ill - one of my "nervous affectations" - so that I could be alone to think.

"Monsieur le Dauphin," I said to myself a hundred times a day.

I studied my body, but there was no difference as yet. I was very careful getting in and out of my bath lest I should slip. My bath was shaped like a sabot and for the sake of modesty I wore a long flannel gown b.u.t.toned to the neck when I sat in it; and when I came out, I always made one of the two bathing women in attendance hold a cloth in front of me so that my attendants should not see me. Now I felt this to be doubly necessary. Not that my body had changed one little bit.

The weeks pa.s.sed and I clung to my secret and at last I felt convinced. I was certain I had felt the child move within me.

My husband should be told first. I was so excited that I did not know how to break the news. I knew he would be overcome with emotion too. Did he not desire this as much as I did?

I went to his apartments. I was half-laughing, half-crying. He rose when he saw me and came toward me in consternation.

Laughing, I cried: "Sire, I have come to lodge a complaint against one of your subjects."

He was startled. "What has happened?"

"He has kicked me."

"Kicked you!" Indignation and horror.