Free Bride of New France by Suzanne Desrochers

This is a surprise visit.
    “Bonsoir Madame, mesdemoiselles.” His words are polite, but he doesn’t remove his hat as he surveys the disarray of the workshop and the girls standing around Laure. He belongs to the Compagnie du Saint-Sacrement. The Superior said to the girls one day that the members of the Compagnie are good men who are trying to build Jerusalem in the middle of Babylon. Laure asked Madeleine what that meant, since she knows more biblical quotes and references than Laure because she had beenwith the Sulpiciens before she ended up at the Salpêtrière, but she just said that it meant the men of the Saint-Sacrement were trying to make the Salpêtrière a better place. Nobody knows very much about the Compagnie, as it is a secret gathering of religious men.
    “You have a client with you …?” The director sounds confused. There aren’t normally customers in the Salpêtrière workshops. “It looks like you’re turning this room into a real commercial enterprise. I hope you fit in plenty of prayers for these girls.” His wooden soles reverberate on the floor as he walks by each of the work stations.
    Madame du Clos nods her lowered head.
    “Some men,” the director continues, “think that commerce is the ultimate purpose of existence. They’ll use any hands they can, even those of the poor, to fuel their greed.” The director has his arms crossed over his chest and is walking past the table filled with the girls’ completed work. “There isn’t much I can do to oppose this kind of thinking.” He then walks up to Laure, examining her dress. His eyes stop on her chest. When he gets beside her, he whispers into her ear: “Cover that breast that I am not to see. By such things are souls injured, and guilty thoughts made to enter the mind.” Then he says to her aloud, “Mademoiselle, what do you think of these young women? They aren’t exactly cultivated, but they do work very hard.”
    Laure blushes. She glances quickly at Madame du Clos, whose eyes are wide with fear. Laure does her best to suck in a little air.
    “Yes, they work … like angels.” She feels her cheeks burning.
    “ Très bien , Mademoiselle. The King will be happy that his aims are being realized.” The director doesn’t return Laure’s smile, but turns instead to Madame du Clos.
    “Madame, excusez-moi , but next time you might want to keep Divine values in mind when you fashion your dresses.” He glances again at Laure and turns to go.
    After he has gone, Laure breaks into laughter. “Did the hospital director really think that I was a Parisian lady?” she asks.
    “Yes, thank God for us all that he did.” Madame du Clos is trembling, but manages a smile as she quickly helps Laure out of the gown and back into her work dress.

    In the morning, Madame du Clos gives Madeleine instructions to look after the workshop. She then sets off with Laure and the letter for the seamstress area of the city. Their destination is on rue Saint-Honoré, in the new fashion district near the Place des Victoires. According to Madame du Clos, their only hope of getting Laure’s letter to the King is to bring it to the shop of the Tailleur Brissault.
    For sustenance on their journey through the city, Madame du Clos has brought with her some bread and meat, which she carries in a fashionable purse. Both women have on their best dresses—in Laure’s case it is the only one she possesses—and bonnets to protect against the sun. The archer at the hospital’s gate lets them by with a flourish of his arm. On this walk, Laure receives envious stares from the peasants along the Seine path. She keeps her head raised high and pretends that she cannot see them looking at her. She holds up the skirt of her dress to guard against the mud of the streets and is both relieved and impressed when Madame du Clos offers a man with a donkey cart a few sous to carry them to the Pont-Neuf. From there, Madame du Clos chooses to walk only the paved streets,