The Sisters of Versailles Read Online Free PDF Page A

very glamorous and exciting. The queen is a wonderful mistress and the other ladies are very kind and caring. My husband, Louis-Alexandre, is so attentive; it is wonderful to be together with him all the time, though he does not sleep at the palace but prefers his house in town. He says the dust in the palace causes him to sneeze too much.
    Diane, I will try to send the ribbons that you asked for, but money is very tight here. My dear husband gives so much to charity that there is little left over for trifles! I must be very inventive with my clothes. Do you remember our everyday yellow muslin dresses we all wore in the nursery? I made mine into an underskirt and on my days off duty I wear it with my blue flowered chintz. All the other ladies admire it very much.
    Pauline, please write to me! I would love to hear your news. Diane, thank you for your letter, but unfortunately the ink was smeared and I could not understand much of it. You must write to Tante Mazarin and thank her for taking care of Hortense and Marie-Anne. Do not be sad about Mama and remember to pray for her soul.
    Your loving sister,
    Louise

From Louise de Mailly
    Château de Versailles
    June 12, 1730
    Dear Marie-Anne and Hortense,
    My darling sisters! I trust you are well in Tante Mazarin’s care. I saw her yesterday and she told me you are happy in your new home and that Hortense, you have stopped having nightmares about the rats living beneath your bed. Don’t forget, bad dreams are caused by Satan, so if you fear nightmares, wear your crucifix to bed and He will protect you.
    I received a letter from darling Zélie, she is now living in Picardy and says she misses us most terribly. It is so sad she is not able to still be with us. I will miss her dreadfully. Do you remember how she used to sing to us at night, whenever there was a thunderstorm? How sweet she was.
    Life is wonderful here at Versailles. Everything is very glamorous and the people are very grand but very kind. My husband is very attentive and it is wonderful to be so close to him and not constantly separated as we were before. I hope when the time comes for you to be married, you will have as wonderful a husband as mine.
    I will give Tante Mazarin a pot of fig jam for her to bring to Paris when she next goes; it is a gift to me from my friend the Duchesse d’Antin. I thought to share it with you as I know how much you love figs. Please don’t write to Diane and tell her about it; she would be very jealous but I only have one pot left.
    Do not forget to pray for our mother’s soul.
    Love,
    Louise

Marie-Anne
    HÔTEL DE MAZARIN, PARIS
    1731
    I f I had a diamond ring I would scratch it on the windowpane of my room and write: Here Marie-Anne de Mailly-Nesle died of boredom, February 15, 1731. Marie of Scotland, imprisoned in an English castle, engraved a sad poem on a window glass to prove she once lived, though she knew she would die soon.
    Our governess, Zélie, told us that story, so it might not be true.
    But even if it’s untrue, I still feel some affinity for poor, doomed Marie. I have no diamond but one day I slipped a small sharp knife under my sleeve after dinner. I tried to scratch out my despair on the windowpane, but my sister Hortense heard the housekeeper yelling at the servant girls about the missing knife. She made me feel guilty enough to relinquish it to her superior person. She put it on a side table where a footman found it, then informed me she would pray away my wickedness.
    After our mother died, our Tante Mazarin embraced us and said we must make a home with her, and consider all she had to be ours. Tante is a pious old bat. She’s only just past forty and still quite beautiful, but she wears dark old-fashioned clothes that make her look like an ancient widow, and her lips are thin from a lifetime of disapproval.
    I don’t like our new home. I miss the fourth floor on the Quai des Théatins and all that was familiar. I wish our mother never had to die; she was too