My sister, Azelma, and I are playing happily in our pretty little playroom. Mother is probably downstairs ordering Cosette around... again. It seems to me that ordering Cosette around is all Mother really does. And Father beats her unmercifully. It's terrible to be in this house. If Cosette weren't around, we wouldn't have Mother and Father screaming and shouting constantly. But if Cosette weren't around, we also wouldn't have a little servant girl. Which is better? I don't know.

An idea popped into my head. I don't really recall ever talking to Cosette. Not really talking to her. I wonder if she's nice. Now there's something to think about. I wonder if, deep down, she's just a normal little girl like me that only just wants to be loved. I always put on an act when I'm around her. I act as though I'm better than her and she's too unimportant to talk to. I should stop doing that.

I left Azelma to play in our room and, with my doll in my arm, I walked downstairs. Cautiously, I entered the kitchen. Sure enough, there was Cosette. Soot from the fire covered her face and she was dressed in her usual rags with no shoes. Her arms were bruised from Father's abuse. I felt a flinch in my heart. A little sign of sympathy, I suppose. I looked down at what I was wearing: a pink dress with lace on the bottom and on the sleeves. It wasn't fair of Mother and Father to treat Cosette as they did. It was awful. No one deserved to be treated that way.

Cosette was humming softly, a happy little tune, under her breath. I didn't want to startle her, so I said quietly, "Umm... Cosette?" She was taken by surprise despite my discretion. "Yes, Eponine? Is there something I can get you?" I replied that there wasn't, that I just wanted to talk to her. Cosette looked around the room as if checking for other people. Then pointed to herself and mumbled, "Me? But I'm just a servant girl." I told her that it didn't matter and I told her what I had been thinking about. That we are both of the same age and we have been living together for quite sometime now and had never really had a proper conversation. Cosette looked taken aback by what I had said.

I walked over to her and showed her my doll. She told me it was very nice. I could tell by the look in her eyes that she longed for something as beautiful as my doll. I looked at Cosette, then back at the doll. "Here," I said, "You take it. I want you to take care of her for me." She was in awe yet again. Then a thought came to her mind, "But what about Monsieur and Madame Thenardier? They will surely hit me if they find out. They'll accuse me of stealing it from you out of jealousy." I told her that if this happened, she could come find me and I would tell them that I did, indeed, give the doll to her. Cosette's eyes lit up. "Thank you Eponine."

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