CHAPTER XLADY JANE FINDS OTHER FRIENDS
ThusLady Jane’s new life, in the quaint old Rue des Bons Enfants, began under quite pleasant auspices. From the moment that Pepsie, with a silent but not unrecorded vow, constituted herself the champion and guardian angel of the lonely little stranger, she was surrounded by friends, and hedged in with the most loyal affection.
Because Pepsie loved the child, the good Madelon loved her also, and although she saw her but seldom, being obliged to leave home early and return late, she usually left her some substantial token of good will, in the shape of cakes or pralines, or some odd little toy that she picked up on Bourbon Street on her way to and from her stand.
Madelon was a pleasant-faced, handsome woman, always clean and always cheery; no matter how hard the day had been for her, whether hot or cold, rainy or dusty, she returned home at night as fresh andcheerful as when she went out in the morning. Pepsie adored her mother, and no two human beings were ever happier than they when the day’s work was over, and they sat down together to their little supper.
Then Pepsie recounted to her mother everything that had happened during the day, or at least everything that had come within her line of vision as she sat at her window; and Madelon in turn would tell her of all she had heard out in her world, the world of the Rue Bourbon, and after the advent of Lady Jane the child was a constant theme of conversation between them. Her beauty, her intelligence, her pretty manners, her charming little ways were a continual wonder to the homely woman and girl, who had seen little beyond their own sphere of life.
If Madelon was fortunate enough to get home early, she always found Lady Jane with Pepsie, and the loving way with which the child would spring to meet her, clinging to her neck and nestling to her broad motherly bosom, showed how deeply she needed the maternal affection so freely lavished upon her.
At first Madame Jozain affected to be a little averse to such a close intimacy, and even went sofar as to say to Madame Fernandez, the tobacconist’s wife, who sat all day with her husband in his little shop rolling cigarettes and selling lottery tickets, that she did not like her niece to be much with the lame girl opposite, whose mother was called “Bonne Praline.” Perhaps they were honest people, and would do the child no harm; but a woman who was never called madame, and who sat all day on the Rue Bourbon, was likely to have the manners of the streets. And Lady Jane had never been thrown with such people; she had been raised very carefully, and she didn’t want her to lose her pretty manners.
Madame Fernandez agreed that Madelon was not over-refined, and that Pepsie lacked the accomplishments of a young lady. “But they are very honest,” she said, “and the girl has a generous heart, and is so patient and cheerful; besides, Madelon has a sister who is rich. Monsieur Paichoux, her sister’s husband, is very well off, a solid man, with a large dairy business; and their daughter Marie, who just graduated at the Sacred Heart, is very pretty, and isfiancéeto a young man of superior family, a son of Judge Guiot, and you know who the Guiots are.”
Yes, madame knew. Her father, Pierre Bergeron,and Judge Guiot had always been friends, and the families had visited in other days. If that was the case, the Paichoux must be very respectable; and if “Bonne Praline” was the sister-in-law of a Paichoux, and prospective aunt-in-law to the son of a judge, there was no reason why she should keep the child away; therefore she allowed her to go whenever she wished, which was from the time she was out of bed in the morning until it was quite dark at night.
Lady Jane shared Pepsie’s meals, and sat at the table with her, learning to crack and shell pecans with such wonderful facility that Pepsie’s task was accomplished some hours sooner, therefore she had a good deal of time each day to devote to her little friend. And it was very amusing to witness Pepsie’s motherly care for the child. She bathed her, and brushed her long silken hair; she trimmed her bang to the most becoming length; she dressed her with the greatest taste, and tied her sash with thechicof a French milliner; she examined the little pink nails and pearls of teeth to see if they were perfectly clean, and she joined with Lady Jane in rebelling against madame’s decree that the child should go barefoot while the weather was warm.“All the little creoles did, and she was not going to buy shoes for the child to knock out every day.” Therefore, when her shoes were worn, Madelon bought her a neat little pair on the Rue Bourbon, and Pepsie darned her stockings and sewed on buttons and strings with the most exemplary patience. When madame complained that, with all the business she had to attend to, the white frocks were too much trouble and expense to keep clean, Tite Souris, who was a fair laundress, begged that she might be allowed to wash them, which she did with such good-will that Lady Jane was always neat and dainty.
Gradually the sorrowful, neglected look disappeared from her small face, and she became rosy and dimpled again, and as contented and happy a child as ever was seen in Good Children Street. Every one in the neighborhood knew her; the gracious, beautiful little creature, with her blue heron, became one of the sights of the quarter. She was a picture and a poem in one to the homely, good-natured creoles, and everywhere she went she carried sunshine with her.
Little Gex, a tiny, shrunken, bent Frenchman, who kept a small fruit and vegetable stall just above Madelon’s, felt that the day had been dark indeed whenLady Jane’s radiant little face did not illumine his dingy quarters. How his old, dull eyes would brighten when he heard her cheery voice, “Good morning, Mr. Gex; Tante Pauline”—or Pepsie, as the case might be—“would like a nickel of apples, onions, or carrots”; and the orange that was always given her forlagniappewas received with a charming smile, and a “Thank you,” that went straight to the old, withered heart.
Gex was a quiet, polite little man, who seldom held any conversation with his customers beyond the simple requirements of his business; and children, as a general thing, he detested, for the reason that the ill-bred little imps in the neighborhood made him the butt of their mischievous ridicule, for his appearance was droll in the extreme: his small face was destitute of beard and as wrinkled as a withered apple, and he usually wore a red handkerchief tied over his bald head with the ends hanging under his chin; his dress consisted of rather short and very wide trousers, a little jacket, and an apron that reached nearly to his feet. This very quaint costume gave him a nondescript appearance, which excited the mirth of the juvenile population to such a degree that they did not always restrain it within proper bounds.Therefore it was very seldom that a child entered his den, and such a thing as one receivinglagniappewas quite unheard of.
MR. GEX AT THE DOOR OF HIS SHOP
MR. GEX AT THE DOOR OF HIS SHOP
MR. GEX AT THE DOOR OF HIS SHOP
All day long he sat on his small wooden chair behind the shelf across his window, on which was laid in neat piles oranges, apples, sweet potatoes, onions, cabbages, and even the odorous garlic; they were always sound and clean, and for that reason, even if he did not givelagniappeto small customers, he had a fair trade in the neighborhood. And he was very neat and industrious. When he was not engaged in preparing his vegetables, he was always tinkering at something of interest to himself; he could mend china and glass, clocks and jewelry, shoes and shirts; he washed and patched his own wardrobe, and darned his own stockings. Often when a customer came in he would push his spectacles upon his forehead, lay down his stocking and needle, and deal out his cabbage and carrots as unconcernedly as if he had been engaged in a more manly occupation.
From some of the dingy corners of his den he had unearthed an old chair, very stiff and high, and entirely destitute of a bottom; this he cleaned and repaired by nailing across the frame an orange-box cover decorated with a very bright picture, and oneday he charmed Lady Jane by asking her to sit down and eat her orange while he mended his jacket.
She declined eating her orange, as she always shared it with Pepsie, but accepted the invitation to be seated. Placing Tony to forage on a basket of refuse vegetables, she climbed into the chair, placed her little heels on the topmost rung, smoothed down her short skirt, and, resting her elbows on her knees, leaned her rosy little cheeks on her palms, and set herself to studying Gex seriously and critically. At length, her curiosity overcoming her diffidence, she said in a very polite tone, but with a little hesitation: “Mr. Gex, are you a man or a woman?”
Gex, for the moment, was fairly startled out of himself, and, perhaps for the first time in years, he threw back his head and laughed heartily.
“Bon! bon!’Tis good; ’tis vairy good. Vhy, my leetle lady, sometime I don’t know myself; ’cause, you see, I have to be both the man and the voman; but vhy in the vorld did you just ask me such a funny question?”
“Because, Mr. Gex,” replied Lady Jane, very gravely, “I’ve thought about it often. Because—men don’t sew, and wear aprons,—and—womendon’t wear trousers; so, you see, I couldn’t tell whichyouwere.”
“Oh,my foi!” and again Gex roared with laughter until a neighbor, who was passing, thought he had gone crazy, and stopped to look at him with wonder; but she only saw him leaning back, laughing with all his might, while Lady Jane sat looking at him with a frowning, flushed face, as if she was disgusted at his levity.
“I don’t know why you laugh so,” she said loftily, straightening up in her chair, and regarding Gex as if he had disappointed her. “I think it’s very bad for you to have no one to mend your clothes, and—and to have to sew like a woman, if—if you’re a man.”
“Vhy, bless your leetle heart, so it is; but you see I am just one poor, lonelycreature, and it don’t make much difference vhether I’m one or t’ other; nobody cares now.”
“I do,” returned Lady Jane brightly; “and I’m glad I know, because, when Pepsie teaches me to sew,I’mgoing to mend your clothes, Mr. Gex.”
“Vell, you are one leetle angel,” exclaimed Gex, quite overcome. “Here, take another orange.”
“Oh, no; thank you. I’ve only bought one thing, and I can’t take twolagniappes; that would be wrong. But I must go now.”
And, jumping down, she took Tony from his comfortable nest among the cabbage-leaves, and with a polite good-by she darted out, leaving the dingy little shop darker for her going.
For a long time after she went Gex sat looking thoughtfully at his needlework. Then he sighed heavily, and muttered to himself: “If Marie had lived! If she’d lived, I’d been more of a man.”