Free The Hidden Diary of Marie Antoinette by Carolly Erickson Page B

every day. You waste your time ordering new gowns, trying them on, having them altered endlessly and chatting with your foolish empty-headed friends about them. You spend half your life going to balls.”
    “I like to dance and enjoy myself. Is it not expected of the dauphine to lead others in the dancing?”
    “It is a question of finding a proper balance between light pleasures and serious work. I go hunting for pleasure, but I also lay bricks and dig cellars and study specimens and learn how to make clocks. You, on the other hand, madame, invent new styles and make up new names for stylish colors. I hear you talking about them—Burning Ashes, Gudgeon’s Belly, Unripe Pear, Dirty Rain! What silliness! Does this dairymaid wear aprons in such colors?”
    He pointed to the girl, who blushed the color of Pigeon’s Blood, aware that we were all staring at her.
    “No! She wears the same plain dark gown every day, and a clean white apron and cap. Isn’t that right, my dear?”
    “Yes, sire.” Her voice trembled.
    I went to the cabinet where I keep my needles and thread and brought out the garment I was working on.
    “I have many practical skills,” I said to Louis, holding out the colorful satin vest I was making for the king, embroidered with gold and silver fleurs-de-lis and an elaborate royal monogram. “See, I have nearly finished this gift for your grandfather.”
    “You have been playing at that embroidery for two years! And it is still not finished!”
    “But your grandfather is delighted with it. ‘Bring me my vest, my little doll,’ he says when he sees me. ‘Where is my vest?’ And you know how generous he is with me, giving me jewels that belonged to his first queen and paying all my dressmaker’s bills. He never asks me whether or not I can milk cows!”
    I saw that the poor dairymaid’s shoulders were shaking and went up to her.
    “I do like cows,” I said soothingly. “Very much. Would you please show me the one you brought?”
    I let her lead me out into the courtyard, many of the courtiers following us, where a carefully brushed brown cow with blue ribbons braided into her tail was tied to a post.
    “She’s quite handsome. Have you had her long?”
    “Three years, madame. I raised her from a calf. She has won prizes at the Giverny agricultural exhibition.” The girl’s face shone with pride.
    “Has she? Her milk must be very rich, I imagine.”
    I went on talking to the dairymaid, while the cow twitched her tail and the onlookers, beginning to be bored, wandered off. Evidently Louis wandered off as well, for when I looked around to find him, he was nowhere to be seen.
    November 14, 1771
    Stanny almost knocked me down this afternoon, running along the corridor toward the king’s salon.
    “It’s here, it’s here!” I heard him shout. “My son has been born!”
    Loulou and I followed the sound of Stanny’s excited shouts and I heard him tell the king’s major-domo about the baby.
    “I must see the king! I must announce this news to him myself!” Stanny’s face was purple and he was out of breath.
    The major-domo, impassive, stood in the doorway of the salon blocking Stanny from entering.
    “The king,” he said, brushing a speck of dust from his gold livery, “is taking a purge. He has given orders that he is not to be disturbed.”
    “But he knows that my wife is in labor. He will want to know about her delivery as quickly as possible!”
    “He has yet to acquaint me with that desire,” said the major-domo, who shut the salon door in Stanny’s chubby face.
    Hours later I was summoned to the king’s apartments. He likes me to visit him. He says I cheer him up and make him feel young.
    When I arrived Stanny was still sitting on a bench in the corridor, alongside several of the young pages who were waiting to carry out any order the king might give. Evidently Stanny had not yet delivered his good news.
    The major-domo opened the door to me and admitted me but kept Stanny