Will You Love Me in September

She spoke very little English, I discovered, and what she did was peppered with French words. "You are ... a little ... like him ... I can see him in Aimee. He was the one never forgotten.”

"Clarissa has said that you must come and stay with us," said Aimee.

Tears filled the Frenchwoman's eyes. "Oh, it is so ... gentil ... so good ... so kind. I do not know if I may ...”

"Oh, you must," I insisted. "You must stay with us while you are in England. I am sure you will want to be near Aimee.”

"Ah ... my little one. It has been hard, this parting." Again that lifting of the shoulders. "But what can be done? You see, there was my 'usband.”

"Of course," I said, "the parting with Aimee must have been very sad.”

She broke into French then. "It was right for her. You understand ... a mother's heart. A mother must not shut her eyes to the blessings that can come to her children. She must not say, 'Ah but I want them with me.' No, not if it is better for them to leave her. She must do what is best for them.”

She was inclined to be garrulous in her own language, and although I was very interested in what she had to say, I did not think the mercer's shop was the place in which to say it.

I suggested that we make our purchases and then go to a coffeehouse, where we could talk in comfort, and this we did.

Madame Legrand, whose name was Giselle, explained to me in French, for she realized I could understand that language.

Her husband had died. Oh, that had been a dire tragedy. She had thought herself well provided for. She had planned that she would send for Aimee and the little boy, her grandson. It was hard to think of herself as La Grand'mere, but she was proud that she was one. They were to have lived together in comfort.

"A woman clings to her family, Clarissa. I may call you so? You and my daughter are sisters ... but perhaps I should not say this. Your father ... the father of you both ... was such a man to adore. Having met him, it had to be whatever he wished." She spread her hands. "And this is what he wished.”

As we sipped our chocolate in the cozy atmosphere of the coffeehouse, Madame Legrand talked. She was certainly never at a loss for words.

She talked about the past and her relationship with my father. "So tall, so handsome, so all that a man should be. Oh, it was wrong, it was sin, they would say. I have had to do a million penances for my lord. But I would do it all again ... oh, yes, I would. There was never one like him." So vividly did she talk of him that she made me see him again. She recalled little habits of his which I had forgotten till that moment: his manner of raising one eyebrow when he listened to something he did not believe; his way of taking off his hat suddenly and tossing it in the air; the way he touched his right ear when he was concentrating on something. Recalling these gestures, she brought his memory back more clearly than it had been for many years.

"What a man!" she said. "Never one like him. But he was never a man for one woman.

Ah ... if he had been. ... I did not see him so much after your mother came to France. I remember it well. She was said to be the most beautiful woman in Paris.

It was no wonder that milord wanted her.

"He talked to me about you. 'That adorable daughter of mine,' he used to say. Oh, he was fond of you. He was fond of Aimee too. He would have been a good father if he could have settled down to one... .”

I grew quite emotional listening. I was back in that big hotel which had been our home in Paris. I was lying in my little bed there longing for a visit from my mother in one of her exquisite gowns. I was completely bemused by her dazzlingly beautiful looks-and when he was with her, those had been the great occasions.

Madame Legrand touched me gently on the arm. "Oh, I see I have carried you back through the years... .”

When we were ready to go I said she must come back with us. She demurred. No, no, it would be too difficult, she being as she was ... but with no regrets. Anyone who had known my lord would have understood that he had to have his needs gratified, and there were few women who could resist him. No, she would not come. She would content herself with having seen her daughter. Ah, but she would like a glimpse of her little grandson. Just once to see him, to say, "Ah, that is my little one, who has made my Aimee so happy." Just that and then ... adieu.

"What will you do then?" I asked.

Again she lifted her shoulders. "I shall go back. There is work I can do. Perhaps be a housekeeper, eh? Am I not skilled in the work of the household, Aimee? It is best to forget the past and make the future.”

"Dear Maman, you have only just come," said Aimee.

"At least come and stay with us for a while," I said.