Little Jeanne of France

And Pierrot! Ah, Pierrot, too, was fine in a new satin suit and cap, with bright red cheeks which Jeanne had painted. Many exciting adventures were happening there behind the screen to the little yellow-gowned girl and the clown in satin.

Jeanne was not thinking of this new frock of Auntie's which she wore, nor of the big Saturday audience out in the shop waiting for her to appear. She was thinking of her latest play for Pierrot. As Auntie called, Jeanne put the puppet down and, smoothing the dainty dress, she stepped out into the bright little shop room.

All about were seated ladies and children. The children were in smart attire, with interested and curious little faces that peered and stared at the live puppet as she walked about.

As Jeanne passed a little girl with hair and eyes as dark as her own and a wistful look, the gray-haired lady sitting beside the little girl stopped Jeanne.

"What a beautiful frock!" she said, and touched the hem of the garment gently.

Jeanne and the little girl looked at each other.

Auntie Sue came over to them.

Madame Villard smiled at the dressmaker and asked, "Do you think that this style would become my little granddaughter?"

Suzanne looked quickly at Margot. Margot's big brown eyes were fastened eagerly upon the child whom she had called a lucky little girl.

"Yes, Madame," answered Auntie Sue. "With her brown eyes and slight figure, the little mademoiselle should wear the frock as well as Jeanne does."

Madame and Auntie Sue then talked for some time about the frock.

Jeanne went about the large audience, with Margot's wondering eyes following her every movement.

At last Jeanne finished showing all the garments. The young model disappeared behind the screen, and the audience began to leave.

Auntie Sue was showing a closet full of clothes to Madame Villard whose many purchases made the pencil of Auntie Sue skip over the page and her heart skip with gladness.

This was, of course, dull for Margot, and Margot was not used to things being dull. She sat in the empty room, while Grandmother talked and looked at clothes and paid no attention to her.

The little girl began to walk about the shop. She peered at the floppy dolls on the tables and at the quaint hat stands and show-cases.

She came to the screen behind which Jeanne had disappeared. She longed to peep behind that screen. She edged up close and tried to look through the cracks to the back.

She heard a tiny sound. Then words: "Down with the Bastille (bȧs-tēl´)!"

Margot pressed her head against the screen to hear better. The screen began to topple. Over it went. There was a muffled sound, and Jeanne stood up and faced Margot.

Jeanne was now in her own simple clothes. She held the Pierrot puppet, who was, however, still grandly dressed.

She stared hard at Margot and then at the fallen screen. Margot stared, too. Then Margot managed to remember her manners.

"Excuse me," she said. "I did not mean to knock down the screen."

Jeanne smiled and picked up the screen, while Margot helped her set it in place. When it again stood erect, Margot found herself outside and Jeanne inside. They were separated as before.

For a few moments there was silence from both sides of the screen. Then came a giggle from one side and a giggle from the other.

And then from the outside, "May I come back and see you?"

From the inside, "Yes, do come!"

Margot went behind the screen, and for the first time in her life she learned the magic of real play.

Jeanne had one plaything: a little forsaken puppet. But with love and tenderness she made him a hero.

Jeanne told Margot about Pierrot. She told that he was no longer the buffoon – the poor mistreated clown. He was now a hero.

He could play a knight or a king – Napoleon! She told Margot that Pierrot was Napoleon in one of her plays and that she was Joan of Arc.

Margot lived in another world for the space of an hour. Then the two little girls were called back suddenly by a voice from the room.

"Margot, Margot! Child! Where are you?"

Grandmother was looking for her.

Margot and Jeanne stepped out from behind the screen and found Grandmother preparing to leave. Auntie Sue stood beside her with pencil and pad.

"Thank you, Madame," said Auntie Sue gratefully, "for your splendid order to-day. It was indeed kind of you to make so many purchases at my little shop."

Madame answered, "I am truly pleased with your charming wares, my dear Mademoiselle Moreau. Besides, you know, my dear friend Major d'Artrot is also a friend of yours."

"But Madame," said Auntie Sue, as the grandmother and her little Margot started out of the door, "I have not yet taken your name. I do not know – ."

"Of course, of course," laughed Madame Villard. "How very forgetful of me! Please write my name and address, so you will know where to send the little things."

Suzanne seated herself at a tiny desk and, with pencil poised, looked up at the sweet face above her.

Madame dictated: "Madame Paul Villard. Avenue Champs Elysées."

The pencil dropped from Auntie Sue's hand. Her head fell forward. Jeanne rushed over to the little desk and caught Auntie Sue as she was about to fall.

"Auntie, Auntie dear, what is the matter?" she cried.

Little Margot picked up the pencil while both children and Madame Villard hovered over the desk.

Suzanne rested her head on her hand and whispered, "It is all right. I am all right now. I was only a bit faint. Oh, I am so sorry, dear Madame."

Auntie Sue was soon up upon her sprightly little feet again. Smilingly she bowed Madame and her granddaughter out of the door. But when they had left the shop, Suzanne went to her room, and Jeanne did not see her again that day.

CHAPTER XIII

COME AND PLAY

Margot took off the telephone receiver and asked for a number. It was early next morning, and the child was not yet dressed.

She was in kimono and slippers and had tiptoed into the living room.

"Hello," said a voice at the other end of the wire.

"Hello," said Margot. "I want to speak with Jeanne, if you please."

Margot had talked of nothing but Jeanne from the time she had left the shop. She had fallen asleep last night to the tune of Pierrot dreams, fiery steeds, and gallant armored knights.

Grandmother promised that she might ask Jeanne to play with her to-day. They would go for a long drive. They would go to the park and to the Guignol. There was nobody like Jeanne – nobody that Margot had ever met.

"Is this Jeanne?" asked Margot, as the little girl's voice came over the telephone.

"Yes."

"This is Margot. Can you go out with me to-day? I shall call for you at two."

It was a command, but little Margot was not aware of that. She did not mean it that way. She only meant to have what she wanted, as she usually did.

"But I must first ask Auntie," Jeanne replied.

"Oh, she will let you go," declared Margot. "You may tell her that we shall take care of you and bring you back safely."

Margot waited while Jeanne ran to Auntie's room. Jeanne had not seen Auntie since the afternoon before, when she had so mysteriously disappeared in her room after her fainting spell. Jeanne found Auntie a pale and worried Auntie this morning.

"Oh, Auntie dear," cried Jeanne, throwing her arms about Suzanne's neck, "you are not well."

Suzanne assured the child that she was quite well, and so she was. The only trouble was with the little man who is nothing but a voice and is called Conscience. He had been talking to her all night and keeping her awake.

When Jeanne told what Madame Villard's grandchild wanted, it seemed that Suzanne flinched at the name.

But she smiled and answered, "Yes, dear. Tell her you will go. It will be so nice for you. And to-day is Sunday. There is no work."

Jeanne was only a child, and she longed to go with her new little friend. She longed to ride in the big motor and to play. But she hesitated just for a minute.

"You are sure you will not need me, dear Auntie?" she asked.

"Run along and tell the little girl you are coming," laughed Auntie Sue.

When Jeanne closed the door behind her, Suzanne Moreau's smile faded. She held her throbbing head in her two hands.

How she longed to tell some one of her sufferings! If only she dared confide her story to the Major!

But she valued that honorable gentleman's friendship so much that she feared to lose it by admitting what she now felt to be her terrible crime. Conscience was making her think that – Conscience, together with the face in the locket!

And now Jeanne was going out with little Margot – her own cousin! Margot would take her in a beautiful car. Margot would wear beautiful clothes. They would play with beautiful toys.

Ah, poor little Jeanne! It was hard for Suzanne, with these thoughts, to keep a smiling face until Jeanne had left with Margot.

CHAPTER XIV

A DRIVE THROUGH PARIS

Through Paris in a fine motor car! How often Jeanne had seen these same sights! But now how splendid it all seemed to the little girl, as she sat beside Margot, with Pierrot firmly clasped in her hand! For Pierrot had been invited, too. I doubt whether Margot would have welcomed Jeanne as heartily without Pierrot. Pierrot was half of the performance.

They rode through Paris. They passed the Place de la Concorde (pläs dĕ lä kôn-kôrd´), that most beautiful of city squares, where a sight not so beautiful once stood. It was here that the guillotine had stood. It is the terrible instrument which beheaded so many people in those frightful, stormy days of old.

The square was then called Place de la Revolution (pläs dĕ lä rĕv-ō-lū´-syōn). But now the name, "Place de la Concorde," means "Place of Peace."

They crossed bridges. There are thirty-two bridges in Paris. Some of these are very beautiful. Curiously, the oldest of these, a bridge begun in 1578, is called Pont Neuf (pôn nûf), which means "New Bridge."

They passed the Louvre (lo͞o´-vr´), once a palace. It is now the largest museum in the world. Here such famous works of art as the Venus de Milo (vē´-nus dĕ mē´-lō) and the Mona Lisa (mō´-nä lē´-zä) are to be seen.

The Arc de Triomphe (ärk dĕ trē´-ônf´) stands as a memorial to the great victories of the French general, Napoleon I. It is an arch of splendor set in the center of branching wide avenues.

For Paris is a city noted for beauty. It was planned and built and dreamed, while most other cities, like Topsy, the colored girl, "just growed."

Paris, with its avenues lined with trees, its wide streets and spacious parks, did not "just grow." It was a dream before it was built, and now it is that dream realized.

The little girls passed the spot where the Bastille once stood. This was the famous prison into which people were thrown by the French kings, usually without fair trial. But one day the Parisians marched against the Bastille and burned it to the ground.

The little girls passed the Tuileries (twēl-rē´), which are fairy-like gardens. They are a children's paradise, and part of the dream that Paris is.

Margot and Jeanne watched the people sitting outside of cafés on the streets. They watched the fashionable strollers along the boulevards.

For Paris is well dressed, both inside and out. French cooking is an art, as is everything that these art-loving people attempt.

At the end of their happy day the little girls drove to the park. They sat upon a bench beneath shady trees and they watched a Guignol play.

They had chatted and laughed and now were the very best of friends. Margot was a happy little girl that day. She had learned from Jeanne how to play.

"Sit still, Pierrot," scolded Jeanne softly so that only Margot might hear.

"Pierrot, you shall never come again if you do not behave!" continued Jeanne.

Margot was laughing, for she could see Pierrot bouncing up and down on the bench. Of course the other children couldn't see it, but Jeanne told Margot about it. So she could see plainly what this naughty puppet was doing.

"Oh, dear!" whispered Jeanne to Margot. "He will do something dreadful when Guignol comes on the stage. You know he cannot bear Guignol!"

There now was an ugly, red-nosed clown in the play. He had taken Pierrot's place after that day when poor Pierrot had been abandoned.

"Here comes Guignol!" exclaimed Margot.

Guignol slid upon the stage and fell flop! – on his nose. Guignol began to dance. But again he tripped over his big feet and landed puff! – on his stomach.

He stood up, grunting and groaning and puffing, and again he danced.

Margot and Jeanne watched Pierrot bouncing up and down. Jeanne had to catch Pierrot's hat each time it flew off, as it did whenever Guignol fell down on the stage.

Pierrot's hair stood up like wire, and the cap went up in the air. At least, that is what Jeanne said it did!

When the fight came, they could not hold Pierrot. He kicked and squirmed and waved his arms.

Jeanne was so shocked when his cap flew off and hit a gentleman in the eye! Margot was embarrassed, too. They scolded and spanked Pierrot, but it did no good.

"He wants to be in the play," whispered Jeanne. "I have spoiled him by making him the hero, and now he cannot watch Guignol!"

The children were relieved when at last the play was over. They were then able to take the unruly puppet away and bundle him into the car.

"My child always disgraces me! But we cannot blame him," said Jeanne, shaking her head like a fond but troubled mother. "He was so abused before, and now he has discovered what a great actor he is, and what a hero!"

"Oh, but Pierrot is splendid!" answered Margot.

And pop! – went a button on Pierrot's suit. His chest puffed out, and his hat flew off. The children laughed.

When Margot left Jeanne at the door of Auntie Sue's Shop, she wanted to know when they should be together again. She asked when they should play more of Jeanne's stories with Pierrot.

Jeanne did not tell Margot that she would not be able to play again for many days. Work would interfere. Work was always there to stop play.

But Jeanne did not say this to Margot. Margot would not have understood. Jeanne only told her that she hoped they would meet soon again.

So with her puppet in her arms, she stepped out of the car. She stepped out of the car and out of a different world from her own.

And Margot planned all the way home to repeat to-day's pleasures to-morrow and to-morrow and to-morrow. Little, spoiled Margot!

CHAPTER XV

JEANNE AND MARGOT

Margot's to-morrow and again to-morrow with Jeanne did not come to pass.

Margot discovered she could not disturb the little girl's workaday life. It greatly annoyed Margot that, for the first time in her life, she could not wave her wand and command what she wished.

"I want her! I want to play with her!" exclaimed the pouting Margot, stamping her foot.

She had just called Jeanne on the telephone. Jeanne had told her that it would be impossible to go to the Guignol or play.

To-day was a week day, and from school Jeanne was obliged to hurry home to help Auntie Sue in the shop.

"Come, Margot, child," pleaded Grandmother. "Do not fret. We shall take another child to-day. Grandmother will telephone for you."

"They are all stupid! I want Jeanne!" insisted the little girl.

So Margot went to the Guignol with her nurse. She went again and again. All the time, she thought of the happy day she had spent there with Jeanne and Pierrot.

While Margot was watching the puppets one day, she noticed a child standing outside the gate looking in. It was Jeanne.

Jeanne was coming home from school and, as she often did, was watching Guignol's antics for a few brief moments.

Margot jumped up and, to the astonishment of her nurse, she ran over to Jeanne.

"Jeanne, how happy I am to see you! Come in. Come! We shall see the Guignol together," she cried.

But Jeanne shook her head, and her eyes were sad.

"I should like to, Margot," she answered. "But Auntie is waiting. I must go."

They stood there together for several moments. During those moments, Margot caught once more the spell of Jeanne's play magic.

For Jeanne played always. She played while she talked or dressed or walked. And while she watched the Guignol, her playing was always splendid. Margot caught the spell.

Long after Jeanne had left she sat and played her own dream plays, while the play of the Guignol went on in front of her. Often after that day, Margot saw Jeanne hurrying home. But Jeanne never stopped again.

Jeanne often saw Margot after that day, but she hardly turned her head toward the park. She kept hurrying on because she was afraid of the tears that lived just behind her eyes when she passed the Guignol.

Those tears might at any moment break through the doors of her eyes. And Margot must not see that!

As Margot watched Jeanne, she wondered whether, after all, the little puppet was such a lucky little girl. She began to think of a really lucky little girl whose name was Margot!

One day when Margot came home, she said to Grandmother, "Grandmother dear, I have at last thought what you may give me on my birthday."

Grandmother took her hand.

"I am glad, chérie," she answered, "because the day is drawing near."

"If I may take Jeanne with me to the Bois and spend the day there, that is all I wish," said Margot.

"And no party?" Grandmother looked surprised.

"No. I prefer that," said Margot.

Grandmother telephoned to Auntie Sue. It was arranged that Jeanne was to be spared for that one day – Margot's birthday.

A day in the woods was planned with a picnic and a boat ride, but, best of all, with Jeanne and Pierrot.

The morning of Margot's birthday arrived. As the little girl opened her eyes, a dismal sight met them.

The gray sky was pouring down bucketsful of rain. The morning was as gray and dark as a rainy morning can be. Margot saw her day in the woods spoiled, and she started to cry.

But Grandmother arranged that Jeanne was to come to the apartment.

Margot's pout did not make of her a very happy looking birthday girl. But she had to be satisfied with these plans.

"It would have been so nice to play in the Bois," she sulked.

"Yes, chérie," said Grandmother, "but we cannot change the weather."

And so in front of a crackling fire in Margot's toy stuffed nursery, the two little girls spent the day.

Margot met Jeanne with, "Isn't it too bad?"

But Jeanne could find nothing to feel sorry about.

"Oh, what a beautiful fire!" she exclaimed.

And after a little while, Margot began to be glad that the day was rainy, because Jeanne was glad.

CHAPTER XVI

"I WANT TO PLAY"

Auntie Sue worked very hard. She now had several large orders to fill.

She was finishing Madame Villard's order to-day, and she hoped to bring the little dresses to the apartment that evening.

Jeanne was spending Margot's birthday at the Villard apartment. So Suzanne determined to deliver the dresses and fetch Jeanne when the day was over.

She worked steadily and tried to banish thoughts and voices inside of her. Since Madame Villard's visit to the shop, Suzanne had not had a moment's peace from Conscience.

It was only the thought that Jeanne really loved to show the pretty clothes that kept Suzanne the least bit happy.

She answered Conscience thus: "But see how happy the child is when I give her a new frock to show! She knows, too, that she is the envy of every child in Paris!"

And Conscience always replied, "Perhaps. But maybe she is telling you that. Maybe she is really like any other child who wants and needs to play!"

This was the thing that always caused Auntie Sue to shudder. If she had thought that Jeanne cared, she could never have gone on asking her to work. She hoped that Jeanne did not like to play and did not mind being different from other children.

Always this hope made Auntie Sue argue with the voice. You see, Auntie Sue tried to believe that Jeanne was glad to be a live puppet!

Two little girls played and chatted before a crackling fire. While they sat in Margot's cheerful, rosy room, they made journeys throughout the land of France.

Stories and stories and stories!

Once Pierrot was a soldier, and they played the Great War. Margot and Jeanne were nurses. Through battlefields of France they took their fancies.

Margot had motored many times with Grandmother throughout the valley of the war. She had passed villages, gray and ruined. She had passed villages, new and shiny, with American flags flying beside the French.

She had passed American cemeteries, with thousands of little white crosses like snow upon the ground. There were brown crosses, too, and huge stone monuments to soldiers.

There was one monument built around a line of bayonets where a company of soldiers had been buried alive by an enemy bomb. Their bayonets still show above the ground.

She had seen great tanks along the roadside – barbed wire and trenches.

Through beautiful France the little girl had journeyed with Grandmother. Through the famous wine country – the lands of Burgundy (bûr´-gŭn-dĭ), Champagne (shăm-pān´), and Dijon (dē-zhôn´), the city of churches, palaces, and famous mustard they journeyed!

Along the road sat women knitting or sorting and cleaning the cotton of their mattresses. They were washing in little outdoor water troughs along the roadway.

The children made a play for every part of France. They made one for every French character they had ever heard about. Jeanne could weave a play about anything, and Margot could not help saying, "What a pity you do not have more time to play!"

At this moment the doorbell rang. Auntie Sue was ushered into the hall by the Villard maid. Auntie Sue had come to deliver her parcel and to fetch Jeanne.

"Madame Villard is not in," said the maid, "but the children are in the nursery. Would you like to go to them?"

Thus it happened that Auntie Sue arrived at the nursery door in time to hear the two little girls discussing a serious question.

Auntie Sue did not want to eavesdrop. She would not have listened to the children if she could have helped herself. But the fact of the matter was that Auntie Sue became rooted to the floor, and she could not move.

For the first thing she heard was Jeanne's voice saying, "Oh, Margot! I hate all those silly clothes! I hate being a model. I want to be just a little girl."

Jeanne's voice was bitter. Is it any wonder that Auntie Sue could not move from the spot on which she was standing? She grasped the door knob to keep herself from falling.

Then the conversation went on.

"Then why do you do it?" asked Margot's voice.

"Because," came Jeanne's, "I dare not tell Auntie. She works so hard and takes such good care of me. You see, I have no mother and father."

There was silence, and then Jeanne's voice went on, "My papa was a soldier. But Auntie does not know where he fell."

Again silence and then Margot said, "I think your aunt would let you play if you would ask her to."

"No," Jeanne replied, "I would not ask her. I must show the clothes. She could not sell them if I did not show them first."

There was a short silence and then again came Jeanne's voice, "I just want to be a little girl. I want to play!" The last word ended in a sob.

For the next few moments Auntie Sue did not hear anything. Indeed she hardly knew anything, so stunned and shocked was she.

Auntie Sue did not know how it was that she ever opened the door. She did not know how she ever came to leave that apartment.

It was fortunate that Madame Villard and Margot's mother were out. Children do not always notice things the way grown people do.

But Margot wondered, after Jeanne and her aunt had left, why Auntie Sue's eyes had been so big and frightened and why she had hardly said good-bye.

CHAPTER XVII

A CALL FOR HELP

Major d'Artrot called to his wife, "Come; see! A letter has arrived which calls me to Paris. I must leave at once."

Madame d'Artrot read the letter.

"Dear, dear Major d'Artrot," it said, "You are my only friend, and I must ask you to come to my aid. I am in trouble. I need help and I am ill. Please come to me.