Villiers followed Eleanor and Lisette into the room. A group of girls in plain white frocks were seated on a half circle of stools before a window, industriously sewing. As the door opened they sprang to their feet and formed a line.
At a signal from the eldest, the entire line dropped into a curtsy at precisely the same time.
Lisette burst into a crow of laughter. “How perfectly adorable!” she cried, clapping. “Please, do it again.”
With a nod from Mrs. Minchem, the girls dropped another curtsy. And another.
“They don’t curtsy individually,” Eleanor said after the third round. “They dip to exactly the same distance from the floor, no matter their height. How on earth do they manage it?”
“They train with a ruler,” Mrs. Minchem said briefly, turning to go.
“No, no,” Lisette said. “They must do it one more time.” She clapped. “Come, girls, curtsy!”
Villiers felt a bit ill. The girls ranged from age five to perhaps fourteen. Every single one of them kept her eyes fixed on Mrs. Minchem, as if there were no visitors in the room at all.
Mrs. Minchem nodded.
They all dipped to precisely the same distance and rose again.
“It’s like a dog act I saw at Bartholomew Fair,” Villiers heard Lisette say to Eleanor as they left the room. It wasn’t the most politic thing to say.
He was the last to leave. There were no twins in the line; he was certain of it. Although of course the twins might have been separated.
He should just ask Mrs. Minchem. But Eleanor was marching ahead, her back stiff with a kind of outrage that showed she hadn’t enjoyed the dog act.
Mrs. Minchem opened the next door. She appeared to think that everything was going very well, and she seemed more relaxed. “The next group is made up of my parlor boarders, so to speak.”
She tittered, but when no one responded, she explained: “These girls aren’t quite orphans. That is, they are orphans in that their family cannot care for them, but they arrived with some money for their support.”
“How can they be orphans if they have family?” Lisette asked, knitting her brow prettily.
Mrs. Minchem glanced at her and then said, “I’d not soil your ears with the telling, my lady. I’ll just say that in many cases their fathers have handed them over with a bit of money to tide them by.”
“Very nice!” Lisette said.
“The other girls pay for their own keep by making buttons and wigs,” Mrs. Minchem said. “But these girls are training to become the very best ladies’ maids, so they learn to be French.”
“What?” Eleanor asked. “Did you say that they are learning to be French?”
“Exactly,” Mrs. Minchem said.
“This was one of my ideas!” Lisette cried, clapping her hands again. Villiers realized that he would be quite happy if Lisette never clapped again. “All the best ladies’ maids are French, aren’t they? So I told Mrs. Minchem that she simply must turn some of the girls into mademoiselles.”
“It took some doing,” Mrs. Minchem said grimly. “But they’ve got the trick now, and I think they’ll find good places. We had to give them fancy names, of course.” She opened the door.
There were six girls, also wearing white gowns and seated in a circle, but instead of sewing, they were apparently having a tea party. As the door opened they rose to their feet, lined up, and dropped into a synchronized curtsy.
“Now girls,” Mrs. Minchem said heavily, “demonstrate, if you please.”
The tallest girl stepped forward and curtsied before Lisette. “Bonjour, mademoiselle. Comment allez-vous? Votre coiffe est très élégante.”
“We concentrated on three things,” Mrs. Minchem said. “A proper command of French, development of an appropriate accent while speaking English, and a French manner.”