Dangerous Letters

Chapter Four

Letter X

August 23, 17—

My dear Mother and Father,

I have much to relate, and I'm sure that you will be astonished by some of the developments I have to tell you. I have finally met my pupil, although it was not quite the formal introduction I might have expected. A very odd occurrence happened to me a few nights ago, that I am still been turning over in my mind, where I came to discover a child, my pupil, outside on the lawn beneath my window in the very early hours of the morn. I was not able to speak at any length to her, however, for Madam L--- appeared and removed Villette to her bedroom. When it was light enough to venture downstairs once more, I was informed that Mademoiselle was still asleep in her chamber. I was surprised to hear that she had slept alone, and even more so that this was customary for she disliked the company of Bertha, her personal maid.

I must admit that curiousity about her nightly wandering got the better of me and so I went to up to see her and found her already awake. She had arranged her pillows so as to support her little person in a sitting posture: her hands, placed one within the other, rested quietly on the sheet, with an old-fashioned calm that I found most unchildlike. She is exceedingly tiny in person, a neat little figure, light, slight and straight. Sitting there, she seemed almost a doll; her neck, delicate as wax, and her head of silky curls increased, I thought, the resemblance.

"Villette," I greeted her, when she turned her large eyes on me. "Do you know who I am?"

"Oui," she replied, "Madame L--- explained. You are to be my governess."

"That's right." I came more fully into the room. "What were you doing last night, when I found you?"

She regarded me very solemnly. "I was standing outside."

"Yes, but why?" I thought I detected something like insolence in her gaze and I became annoyed. "The was very naughty of you."

"Will you dress me?"

"I shall go fetch your maid."

"No, I want you to do it."

She clambered out of the bed, almost toppling from its height so that I rushed forward to steady her. I then found myself obligingly helping her into a little coral and green silk frock. All the while, her most peculiar mannerisms continued to emerge.

"Tie the sash straight, please; and make my hair smooth."

"You are ill to please! I think your sash straight enough."

"It must be tied again. Please do tie it."

When I finally did so and turned my attention to her hair, I was again told –

"Pass the comb straight through, Madame, or else the line will be crooked."

I thought it on all accounts an unsuccessful venture but when we had finished, she regarded herself carefully in the full-size mirror. "This was adequate, better than Bertie. You may dress me from now on."

"I shall not," I returned, as sternly as I could, "I do not mind on occasion, but otherwise this is a daily task for your maid to do."

"No," she said, in a very high and imposing voice, "you shall do it."

And I have done it every day since.

Indeed, her teaching has been a little trying; she is a precocious child and very advanced for her age, but she lacks discipline and obedience for regular study. I have told myself that I must exercise patience – the daughter of a Marquis must be accustomed to self-possession not otherwise granted to children her age. I have not spoken to her father yet; he has been busy since his return. I am hopeful that when I have the chance to, I can impress upon him the need for a more rigorous structure to her day.