CHAPTER XXTHE LOST BABY"Ren, you look as though you'd stepped out of a picture book!"Renée did, indeed! With odds and ends from the scrap-bag and the store-room upstairs she and Pat had put together an Alsatian costume. Pat, perched cross-legged in the middle of the bed with a book on Historical Costumes stretched across her knees, proclaimed her satisfaction with their handiwork while Renée turned and turned before the long mirror, stopping to spread out the full short skirt or perk up the enormous bow that adorned her head.Keineth Randolph was going to give a party. It was to be a costume party; there was to be dancing as well as games; all the boys and girls of the Randolph's acquaintance had been invited. They always loved to go to the Randolph's home; the house, though small, seemed to have been built for the sole purpose of giving young people room for a good time; John Randolph, himself, could be as young as the youngest and Keineth, always good-humored, was a hospitable little hostess. Add real musicians, tucked off on the landing of the stair, a table in the corner of the dining-room laden with goodies dear to young folks, witches and goblins, lords and ladies of past kingdoms, monks, fairies, clowns and elves to make merry--well, "it will be one grand party!" Pat had declared.She herself had been torn in mind as to what she wanted to be. She pictured herself as Jeanne d'Arc, glorious in silver armor and lance in hand; she considered Mary, Queen of Scots; then her romantic fancy favored Cinderella! But learning from Peggy that Garrett was going as the brave Powhatan, the Indian Chief, she promptly decided to tease Garrett by appearing as Pocahontas! Aunt Pen was shopping at that very moment trying to find the gayest feather duster in the city with which to decorate her."Pat, I'll wear my locket!" cried Renée, turning from the mirror.She ran to her drawer as she spoke and drew from it the little case. Pat watched her approvingly as she fastened the bright red band about her throat. It added a piquant spot of color to the quaint costume and the curious old locket looked as though it might have been fashioned by some old artisan for a royal lady in the days when feudal lords reigned over France!"It'sperfect!" Pat gave a leap over the low footboard of her bed to examine more closely Renée's entire appearance."You're going to be the best thing there," she declared conclusively. "I know everyone will be crazy over you!Won'tit be fun? I can't wait until Thursday comes! Only then it'll be over so soon!" And Pat sighed deeply, as millions of others have sighed over the rapid flight of time!Maggie tapped at the door."There's a queer old woman downstairs a-asking for you, Miss Renée!""For me?" Renée turned, startled. Then a sudden thought enlightened her. "It must be Elsbeth!"She ran quickly down the stairs to the door followed by Pat. It was Elsbeth, the queer old servant who lived with Mrs. Forrester. At sight of Renée she turned a face white with distress."Oh, Miss Renny, Miss Renny, she's took again! Mis' Lee sent me to fetch you! You must come!""What do you mean, Elsbeth--Mrs. Forrester? I'll go with you at once!""I think that'smean, Renée! We were going to plan my costume--youknowit!" protested Pat."Oh,Pat!" Renée's voice pleaded from the depths of the hall closet where she was hunting for her warm coat. "Oh, Pat--you wouldn't want me not to go! The poor thing!"Pat was a little ashamed; however she did not want to show it--she cast an accusing look at old Elsbeth as though she was to blame."Well, I don't believe I'd leave you for any of the Kewpies, but I'll get along somehow!" and assuming the air of a martyr she started slowly back up the stairs."I'll get back as quickly as I can, truly, Patsy, so wait for me!" Pat paused in her ascent. "You're never going inthatcostume, are you?"Renée had completely forgotten what she had on! However, she only laughed and buttoned the coat up closely about her throat."Oh, it won't make any difference! I'm ready, Elsbeth--let's hurry!""She was took last night with one of her spells and cried and wouldn't take her powders! And to-day she's still like she was dead," the old servant explained to Renée as they almost ran through the streets. They made a curious pair--the young girl's scarlet skirts swinging out below the coat, the gilded cardboard with which she had covered her slippers flopping about her ankles and the ends of the big black bow peeping out from under the soft hat she had clapped upon her head; Elsbeth, hobbling in her effort to keep up with the younger feet, her loosened ends of stringy gray hair flying in every direction, and her hands rolled in the apron she tried vainly to conceal under the short, shabby jacket she wore."The Lord sent Mis' Lee," she gasped, panting for breath, "and she sez--go fetch Miss Renny! An' I come!""She'll be better, I know, with Mrs. Lee there! Don't worry, Elsbeth," and Renée, heedless of the panting breath beside her, quickened her pace so that in a very few minutes she was tapping at the door.Mrs. Lee opened it and drew Renée into the dingy parlor. She went to one of the windows and raised the shade to the very top, letting in a flood of warm sunshine. Then she whispered to Renée:"The doctor is with her now. It is the first time since I have known her that we could get her to see a doctor! Take off your coat, my dear! Oh----" she stared for a moment, puzzled, then laughed: "you were trying on your costume for Keineth's party! You are a picture, my dear!" She hesitated, as though something in Renée's face suddenly held her attention."Just for a moment you made me think of someone, but I can't tell who! Perhaps it is that you so thoroughly look the part of a little Maid of Alsace! I thought, while we were waiting, I might tell you a little more of poor Mrs. Forrester's story. Then you will understand why she suffers as she does! She was not always alone as she is now--she once had a beautiful young daughter----""Oh," broke in Renée, excitedly, "was that the lost baby?""Yes, though she was twenty years old! Now the mother always thinks of her as a baby.""Did she die?""No--to Mrs. Forrester then it was worse than death. The two of them seemed to have been quite alone in the world; the mother cared for nothing but the little girl. Every luxury that money could buy she heaped upon her with a lavish hand. One might think that the child would have been dreadfully spoiled but those who knew them say she was sweet and gentle, pretty as a flower. When she was a little older the mother took her away--she must have the best schooling that money could obtain. They traveled a great deal, too. And all the while, as the young girl grew toward womanhood, the proud mother was building plans for the wonderful future her child must have! I do not know of just what greatness she dreamed--whether it was of some Duchess Somebody or even a prince's title--I only know that she held money and high social position as the greatest gifts with which a Kindly Providence could endow her flower and lost sight of what makes real happiness in this world!"It sounds like a fairy tale, my dear! While the proud mother was dreaming her golden dreams, the young girl met and fell in love with a poor artist--a boy, for he was only twenty-two, whose family was quite unknown and who had nothing in the wide world but a profound belief in his own great talent. The young girl went proudly and joyously with him to the mother to tell of their happiness. The mother would only believe that the boy was an adventurer--a fortune seeker; she saw an end to the plans of her whole lifetime, an obscure future for the girl she had so carefully educated. She sent the young man away and forbade his communicating in any way with her daughter. For weeks the girl pleaded vainly, the mother would not listen; in a fury of disappointment she even locked her for days in her room, thinking to break the young will! But there is an old saying that true love will find a way--the day came when the young girl slipped away, joined her lover and a few hours later returned to tell the mother that they had been married. Then it was that anger and baffled pride drove out all love and justice from the mother's heart; heaping curses upon the frightened girl she drove her from her, bidding her never cross her path again! The girl and boy went away and from that day to this the unhappy woman has never laid eyes upon them. Her rage brought about a spell not unlike what she is having now; for days and days she lay in her bed refusing to let anyone near her. Then, finally, as the weeks grew into months, slowly into her heart crept the realization of what she had done. Remorse began eating at her soul. She tried vainly to find some trace of the daughter; with only Elsbeth she wandered for month after month over every country of the globe, seeking everywhere! She spent almost a fortune on her search. But there was never a sign. It was as if the world had swallowed them. And, finally, broken by her sorrow, unhappy and discouraged, without any friends and with only a little of her former wealth left, she came back to this city and to this old house. It looked then just the way it does now. She threw out anything in it that might make it even a little cheerful and then settled down to die! But life, cruelly enough, has hung on and on! I have learned her story from things she has told me; for some strange reason she has seemed to want to confide in me. And Elsbeth, too, has sometimes softened a little and talked about the old days! That is her sad story, my dear! I know, now, how tender you will always be with her and I have often thought that perhaps you may remind her--a little--of the--lost baby, because you are young and like a flower, too!"Two bright spots of color burned in Renée's cheeks. To herself she was saying: "Waituntil I tell Pat!" The thrill of the secret of the lost baby held her more than any sympathy for the old lady; perhaps deep in her heart some sense of justice told her that the proud mother had had just the punishment she deserved.Mrs. Lee had turned toward the door. "The doctor is going! Wait here, Renée, until I call you. He may have some directions to give."Renée looked about the room. What a horrible place! Even the gold of the sunlight dimmed to a cold lustre as it lay across the dusty surface of the shabby furniture! Everything was so unspeakably ugly and so still! She suddenly felt very lonely. A moment's wild impulse tempted her to run back to Pat as fast as her feet could fly! They had been having such fun fixing the costumes; the pink-curtained room had been so cheery, Peter Pan had been singing so lustily--why should she stay here?Except for the low murmur of voices from the hall where Mrs. Lee was talking to the doctor, the only sound to break the awful stillness was the loud ticking of old Elsbeth's clock in the kitchen. It had a mournfully resentful tick as much as to say to its unhappy listeners: "No matter how wretched you feel, I go on--I go on--I go on!"The door going into the room where Mrs. Forrester lay was closed. As she thought of crossing its threshold little Renée shuddered. A fear she could not explain gripped her! After all, she was only a little girl; she had never seen anyone suffer--except Gabriel when he was tortured with his rheumatism; she had never seen anyone die--her own dear mother had seemed to just go to sleep! And what if Mrs. Forrester should die? If she wanted to go back home, surely Mrs. Lee would let her go!And then, as she waited, bits of the story Mrs. Lee had told her flashed back across her thoughts and held her. Now her sympathy was not so much for the girl bride as for the poor, lonely mother, wandering broken-hearted, over the world!"The poor thing!" she said aloud, and then jumped at the sound of her own voice.A door closed behind the doctor; Mrs. Lee came into the room."She is quiet now. The doctor says there is no danger. It is all her nerves. Only--women her age can't indulge in hysterics without serious results! What a picture you are in all this gloom, child! It's a strange coincidence that you should have had this dress on! Perhaps it will rouse her."Somehow, now, Renée did not feel a bit like asking to go home. She was not even very much afraid. With Mrs. Lee she stepped softly down the dim hall toward the closed door."Anything, Renée, that will make her forget herself will help her," whispered Mrs. Lee. "Tell her about Keineth's party--anything!" They walked into the room. The doctor had raised one of the cracked shades so that the sun was slanting in. Mrs. Lee had put some extra pillows under the patient's head; she was half-sitting, a pathetically little figure in the great ugly bed. Her face was turned toward the wall. She lay perfectly still; Renée might have thought that, like her mother, she was sleeping, except that her thin fingers twitched at the edge of the bedspread."I have brought Renée," Mrs. Lee said softly.There was no answer."Perhaps you would like to have her stay with you for a little while!""Oh--go away--allof you!" came pettishly. "Can't you let an old woman die in peace? Will it ever come?" she moaned into her pillow.Renée felt so indignant that anyone should be praying like this to die that she stepped to the side of the bed."But the doctor says you arenotgoing to die," she answered quickly, with a stubborn note in her sweet voice.The moment she had spoken she was very frightened but she could not have said anything that would have so quickly roused the old lady. It roused her because it angered her; she jerked her head around. However, what she might have retorted in answer was checked by her utter amazement at seeing the strange, quaint little figure by her bedside."Who are you?" she demanded angrily. "Who let you in here?"The child stepped closer. "I'm Renée!" she answered gently."You that little Renée? Come here!" Mrs. Forrester commanded stretching out a thin hand.Renée stepped close to the head of the bed and leaned over. Mrs. Forrester touched her cheek and her hair."So it is! So it is!" and her voice softened. Then a gleam of sunlight from the unshaded window struck across the curious old locket. Suddenly the sick woman sat bolt upright in bed and clutched with both hands at the red band."That--that----" she screamed. "Where did you get it?" She tore at the velvet band until it hurt Renée cruelly. Her voice rose to a shriek. "It is hers! My baby!"As her fingers fumbled over the face of the locket a part of it suddenly opened and from a hiding place within dropped a tiny gold key! The old lady cried loudly and held it up."I knew it! I knew it!" Then she sank back among the pillows, turned slowly to Renée and whispered hoarsely:"But who are you?"CHAPTER XXIRENÉE'S BOX"Who are you?"Of course they all thought Mrs. Forrester was having a spell! Renée was terribly frightened--the more so because now one of the thin hands was gripping her arm so that it hurt.Elsbeth, more wild and disheveled than ever, pushed at Renée and leaned over the bed, a tumbler in one hand, some powders in the other."Mis' Forrester!Please, Mis' Forrester!" she pleaded, tears running down her wrinkled cheeks.But Mrs. Forrester struck angrily at the hand holding the powders and sent them in a tiny cloud of dust all over the covers."Go away, you old fool!" she cried, "can't you see I've found my baby? No one else anywhere in the world had a locket like that!"Mrs. Lee suddenly remembered who it was that Renée had looked like! It was the faded picture Elsbeth had once shown her of the young daughter of Mrs. Forrester! She stepped forward now and answered for Renée."She is Renée LaDue, but I think--I believe--shemustbe your grandchild!"Mrs. Forrester was sitting bolt upright and the pillows had fallen all about her. Two bright spots of red burned on her cheeks and her eyes, as they stared through and through Renée, were alight with life. She was a different creature from the one who had lain limply on the ugly bed, her face turned toward the wall! Only her voice still sounded weak and shrill."Your mother--answer, child!"Then, more than anything else in the world, Renée wanted to run away! But the hand on her arm held her tight. And, too, who was this old lady who had known that the key was in the locket when she and Emile had not known it?"My mother's name was Amy----""My baby!" Now the old lady sank back among the pillows; she commenced to sob--dry, heart-breaking sobs, "My baby! You are her little girl! I have found her!"And then a strange thing happened! For suddenly Renée lost all her fear and over her swept a joy that she had found someone--someone to really, truly belong to! So very shyly she reached out and took one of the thin hands in her own.Mrs. Lee gently told the old woman as much of Renée as she knew; how the mother had died five years before, how she had made the brother promise to some day bring the little girl back to America to live, how the brother had given his life for France, the country of his mother's adoption, and an American officer had fulfilled the promise. As she listened Mrs. Forrester kept her eyes fastened on Renée's face and Renée held tightly to the trembling hand.When Mrs. Lee had finished Mrs. Forrester lay still for a long time. Then she said softly: "God has been good to a wicked old woman because my flower had gone to Heaven and pleaded for me! I am forgiven." And she closed her eyes as though at last a peace of soul had come upon her!"Is--is the key--a key to a box?" Renée asked.Her grandmother roused suddenly."Yes--yes! A leather box--have you got it? My grandmother gave it to my darling--with the locket--when she was fifteen.""My mother gave it to Emile just before--she died! She never told him about the key but she made him promise to let no one break it open. And of course we never would!""Shall I go and get it?" asked Mrs. Lee. She felt that for a little while it might be better to leave the old lady and the child alone. Renée made a move as though to go, too, but Mrs. Lee motioned her back."Aunt Pen will tell me where I can find it! You stay here, my dear," and she hurried away.Elsbeth had been watching the unusual happenings with a suspicious, jealous eye. She loved her strange old mistress better than anything on earth; she resented these strangers usurping her place!"Missus had best lay down now and keep quiet," she said, coming forward with an authoritative air. "If ye'll jes' take a powder----" But she got no further; Mrs. Forrester burst into a laugh! And Elsbeth was so startled that her knees knocked together, for, not for many years, had she heard her mistress laugh--and such a laugh!"Elsbeth, stupid, can't you see I'm a well woman? That I am happy again? None of your powders any more! Go about your business--ransack your pantry and find some food for my pretty one here! My flower--my baby!" And with a look that transformed her thin face she lifted her arms and closed them about little Renée."Tell me," she whispered, as though it must be a secret between them, "was she ever unhappy?"Renée answered very slowly because she was thinking very hard. She tried to make the mother know that her own dear mother had been always cheerful, always singing and telling beautiful stories and playing with her among the flowers--and was only unhappy when Emile brought out the father's tools."That was because he had been blind, and I heard her tell Emile once that his heart had broken because he could not do his work! For a long time she guided his fingers for him! She herself used to take the things they made to Paris to sell, and, when she couldn't sell them, she and Susette used to hide them so he couldn't know--Susette told me all that! I think we were very, very poor, but my mother always seemed happy. She used to sew sometimes, until she was very tired. We never had anything but the flowers to play with and the games she used to make up. And she always talked of the time when she would bring us both to America! 'It was my country and it must be yours,' she used to tell us over and over!""Did she--did she--ever tell you--about me?"Renée hesitated. She knew that what she must say would hurt the old lady deeply. But before she could speak Mrs. Forrester answered herself."Of course she would not! I had forbidden it!" and in her voice was the bitterness of remorse.Then Renée told her of the cottage at St. Cloud where, since as far back as she could remember, they had lived with Susette and Gabriel. She told, too, of Emile and the days when he had gone to Paris to study with an old sculptor, and how bravely he had gone away to war with a company from St. Cloud!Mrs. Forrester pushed Renée's hair back and looked intently at her."I can see it now! You are like her--a little! But your eyes are like--your father's."There were voices in the hall and in a moment Mrs. Lee and Aunt Pen walked into the room. Aunt Pen was greatly excited and came straight to Renée."I am so glad, my dear," she whispered.But no one had eyes for anything but the queer old box which Mrs. Lee had placed upon the bed."How old it looks," sighed Mrs. Forrester, caressing for a moment the worn leather. Her fingers trembled so that she could not hold the tiny key and it was Renée who fitted it into the lock and turned it. It turned slowly and the lid fell back, revealing packages of papers and letters, tied neatly together.Although not knowing exactly what she had always imagined was in the box, Renée was vaguely disappointed! But Mrs. Forrester fell to eagerly sorting over the packages. Lying loose among them was a folded sheet, addressed to herself."Her writing!" she cried, holding it close to her eyes. "Read it for me--I cannot.""Dearest of mothers," Renée read. The writing showed that the letter had been written under stress of deep emotion. "It was only because he needed me so much, for the doctors had told him his eyesight was slowly going, that I could hurt you by acting against your wishes. And sometime you may know that I have always loved you dearly and that I forgive you as I pray you will forgive me.""Oh, my darling," and a flood of tears dropped on the sheet of paper. "It is as though she was speaking to me!" she whispered, kissing the lines. And indeed a great stillness held the room as though each of those in it felt, too, the spirit of Renée's young mother among them!Mrs. Forrester, her eyes still dim with tears, spread out the other papers and she and Mrs. Lee and Aunt Pen fell to examining them, while Renée watched, feeling as though it was all a dream.They found an old journal whose contents explained how John LaDue, who before his marriage with Amy Forrester had been John Tellers, had gone with his young bride to Paris where they had taken the name of LaDue. Living as they did in simple obscurity, and because John Tellers had been born and brought up among the French-speaking people of New Orleans, it was very easy for them to pass as a young French sculptor and his wife. And the friends they made were other young artists, struggling along like themselves, who could know nothing about the proud, unhappy woman who was traveling all over the world, seeking her daughter!The journal stopped abruptly at the record of Renée's birth. Renée remembered Susette telling her that it was when she had been a tiny baby that her father had become totally blind and they had moved to St. Cloud that he might have the benefit of the pure air and the sunshine.Aunt Pen discovered a package of papers that proved to be United States government bonds. They had been given to Renée's mother on her twentieth birthday, six months before her marriage. They had not been touched. Penelope exclaimed:"A small fortune! And they are Renée's!"Many thoughts were shaping in poor Renée's sadly bewildered little head. She had now, what Peggy always called "folks"--a grandmother and Elsbeth; even though it was an ugly old house she'd have a real, real home all of her own! She wouldnothave to go to the mountain place with her guardian and the strange French soldier! And yet that disturbed her a little. Emile had, in a way, given her into the guardian's keeping and not to a strange old woman! So, even though belonging to so many, Renée felt torn and unhappy. And she looked almost scornfully at the packet which Aunt Pen held up as though precious--howcouldjust plain papers like that be a fortune!Mrs. Forrester, who looked less and less like a sick woman, commenced to slowly gather up the papers and place them back neatly in the leather box. When she shut down the lid she turned to Renée."I thank God that He has shown me His mercy! I have not deserved to find my darling. But I have been punished! No one knows how I have suffered! And maybe, even now, I am not fit to have you. I am an ugly old woman who has cast everything beautiful out of her life! Perhaps I have no right to keep you! You have good friends--go back to them, only keep in your heart a kind thought for an old woman----""Oh, I'llstay--I'd rather!" and Renée was quite startled that she could decide so quickly."You mean it? Oh, my baby--my pretty flower!" Then a sudden resolution lighted the old woman's face. "It will be as though that motherhood I sacrificed by my wicked pride was given back to me! Oh, Iknowhow wicked and wrong I was and how I wanted for my precious one only the things that my own pride clamored for! But you shall not stay now--my pretty flower would wither and fade in these ugly walls. I am well, again--and Elsbeth and I will clean out this place! It shall be made bright and pretty for my little one! You must go now, back with your good friends, then after a little----"Every one thought that was best. Elsbeth came in with a tray of sandwiches and some cocoa. Every one was hungry because the dinner hour was long past and, in the excitement, had been forgotten. And as they ate, Mrs. Forrester, like a new creature, began energetically to give Elsbeth orders as to what she must do on the morrow to begin the work of transforming the ugly old house into a beautiful home for her "pretty flower."Then, one by one, they said good-night to Mrs. Forrester, and Renée, leaning over, kissed her and whispered shyly:"Good-night, grandmother! Very soon I will come back--to stay."CHAPTER XXIISURPRISES"Dinner is served, Miss Pat!""Why, Aunt Pen and Renée are not here," cried Pat, looking up from a book."Miss Everett said that dinner should not wait! It is a quarter past seven.""But my father----""Mr. Everett is dining out.""Well, I never!" Pat threw down her book crossly. Drawing herself to her full height, she stalked down the length of the room on into the dining-room, where, at the end of the long table, alight with the sparkle of silver, glass and china, one lonely place had been set.She wanted very much to throw a plate at Jasper who was biting his lip to keep from laughing at her aggrieved air. Instead she tossed her head higher and, in her haughtiest manner, ordered:"Jasper, will you see at once what Melodia has made for dessert and,whateverit is, tell her that I want two extra big helpings!""So there!" she muttered to his retreating back and felt much better!Pat had really had a very bad afternoon. She had not liked one bit having Renée rush away in the midst of all their fun fixing their costumes! She had helped Renée and Renée had left her to fix her own. She had felt decidedly aggrieved. Of course she was sorry for the sick old lady, but didn't Renée love her more than anyone else? Or didn't she?When a little girl begins to ponder in such a fashion she can soon work herself into a sad state of blues. That was what Pat did! So that when Aunt Pen returned with a feather duster made of the biggest, brightest feathers that had ever grown to grace a young Indian princess, Pat didn't care whether or not she even went to Keineth's party!Then the climax of her unhappiness was reached after Mrs. Lee rushed in with the story of the locket and the key. Aunt Pen and Pat had listened with eyes wide with astonishment."Oh, it'sjustlike a fairy story!" Pat had cried."Dear Renée! It will mean a home of her own for the child! I will get the box at once."Pat was startled--a home of Renée's own! She had felt that they might coax the soldier-guardian to leave Renée with them forever and ever, but here was a new and much stronger claim! A real grandmother--even if it was a terrible old lady who had had a mystery!Aunt Pen came back wearing her coat and hat. Pat jumped to her feet."Wait for me, Aunt Pen!""No, no, my dear! Too many of us may embarrass Mrs. Forrester! You must stay here.""As ifIhadn't found Renée in the first place," thought Pat resentfully as they went away.Even the thought that the mystery of the "lost baby" had been solved--and solved in such an amazing way, brought no comfort--rather a sense of envy! All the others had hadsuchexciting things happen to them! Sheila had had the lost formulas. And now Renée had the excitement of finding a grandmother! Nothing at all ever happened to her! To console herself she scornfully tore to bits the first four chapters of her story. She'd never try to be a famous author--she'd just grow up and do silly things like Celia always did--they were fun, anyway! And Aunt Pen and Renée, when they realized that she was never, never going to write any more stories, would feelverysorry!That was Pat's state of mind when she sat down to eat her lonely dinner.Then the doorbell rang. Pat heard a man's voice talking to Jasper. She heard Jasper step toward the library. She was immensely curious--for even a very unhappy person can be curious! Daddy was not at home--it was too early in the evening for callers--who could it be? She pushed her chair back and tip-toed toward the hall.An hour later Aunt Pen and Renée, returning home, were met at the door by a wildly-excited Pat. Her blues had disappeared like magic--the expression of her face, every motion of her body indicated that she had a secret! She held her fingers to her lips to forbid a sound. Then seizing them both by the elbows she whispered into their amazed ears:"Oh, thebestest, grandestsurprise you ever,everknew!" And Pat danced up and down and giggled deep in her throat to make them know that grandmothers and lost babies were as nothing compared to the surprise she had for them within the house!"Pat Everett, are youcrazy?" whispered Aunt Pen back. "Aren't you going to let us in?""Of course!" answered Pat with importance. "You may walk in and go atonceinto the library! But you must shut your eyestightand promise not to peek until I count----""It's your mother!" declared Penelope, eagerly."Nopey--it's a bigger surprise than that! No fair guessing, only you couldn't anyway! Now come in and shut your eyes!"So they had to do just what Pat told them to do! And Pat, happier than she had ever been in her life, dancing rather than stepping, led them into the library. She had no chance to count--a sudden, quick exclamation made them both open their eyes!For some one had said: "Pen--Everett!" But Renée's sharp cry drowned out the sound. She saw, standing a little behind Capt. Allan, thin in his shabby French uniform, the empty sleeve pinned to his tunic, Emile--her beloved Emile!In an instant she was in the tight clasp of his arm--they were both crying--poor little Renée's heart could stand no more! And as she clung to him her fingers were feeling across his face and through his hair and over the cloth of his uniform as though to tell her it wasnota dream buttrue!Pat was so happy for Renée that she found her own eyes wet and turned away to keep back the tears. And there was Aunt Pen, the color of a red poppy, slipping out of Capt. Allan's arm!"I might have known, Miss Pat, that you and I were old friends--because I used to think I had a sort of solid claim on this aunt of yours--only I didn't know she was your aunt!"With a triumphant look Pat tried to tell Aunt Pen that she had guessed it all a long time ago but Aunt Pen, as radiant as a school girl, was beaming upon Capt. Allan and Capt. Allan was shaking Pat's hands as though he had to do something violent.Then Aunt Pen went to Renée and kissed Emile--for, in spite of the deep lines that his suffering had carved on his face--he looked like a boy!"It is just as though God was working miracles," she whispered to Renée.There was so much to tell that no one knew just where to begin! They all knew, now, that Capt. Allan's French soldier, whom he had found in the old peasant's cottage, was Emile. Then Emile, still holding Renée in the circle of his arm as though he could not bear to let her go for one little moment, told how he and the private who had been left by the scouting party, had had to separate in order to get back to their line."I had a presentiment that I was going to be killed--I gave him my wallet with all my papers and the sketches I had made. That was why they thought it was I who had been killed!"No one wanted to spoil the joy of the evening by asking Emile to tell of his experiences in the German prison. It was enough that he was there with Renée once more--in America! Everyone's eyes were very bright and every now and then everyone was very still, as though the happiness was too great to be spoken in mere words!Then Mr. Everett came in and the surprise was a surprise all over again, and Pat, because it had been her surprise, was allowed to tell him all about it. He shook hands very warmly with Capt. Allan and Emile, and laid his arm tenderly over the boy's shoulder as though to express things he could not say!They laughed at Capt. Allan because they caught him so often staring at Renée!"Whathaveyou done to her? It's hard to believe she's the same little girl I picked up at St. Cloud!""It's Penelope's work," answered Mr. Everett; "she's been doing some experimenting!"Renée, indeed, was a different child. She had grown taller, sturdier, her face had lost its delicacy of line and color; now she had, too, in her step and look the spirit and vigor that only healthy, happy living can give.Suddenly Aunt Pen exclaimed: "Goodness me, Renée, we've forgotten to tell about----""The Lost Baby!" cried PatSo there were new surprises all around! It seemed more like a fairy story than ever--to find, in a few hours, a grandmother and a brother! Emile was deeply interested; he listened gravely. He knew perhaps more of his mother's sacrifices and hardships than Renée had known; for a moment, deep in his heart, he found it hard to feel kindly toward the proud woman who had made his mother unhappy. Then as Aunt Pen described her lonely life in the old house, the dreary days shut in with her grief and her remorse, just as Renée had, he felt a wave of tenderness."She is going to begin right away making the old house bright and pretty and nice to live in! And think how happy she'll be to know Emile has come back!" cried Renée."Well, it looks as thoughIwas the one who had lost out all around," broke in Capt. Allan, although he did not look one bit unhappy as he said it. In fact, his eyes were fastened on Aunt Pen's face with a sort of eager questioning in them that kept the blushes coming and going on her cheeks. "I thought I had gotten together a nice little family! However, I shall go on with my plan of fixing up that old place in the mountains and maybe, sometime, I can induce my ward and her brother and her grandmother to make a poor, lonely ex-guardian a visit!""And me!" put in Pat, eagerly, for she was certain he was in earnest."And me!" laughed Aunt Pen with a look that seemed to flash back an answer to Capt. Allan."I think you girlies had better go to bed!" Mr. Everett had noticed that Renée's eyes were looking very tired. She had had a most exciting day. And on the morrow she must go again to the grandmother's with Emile.Pat consented to go to bed only when Capt. Allan and Emile promised to spend the night with them!She and Renée whispered together for a long time. Pat must hear just how Renée felt the moment she knew the cross old lady was hervery owngrandmother!"I don't believe she'll be cross when she's happy," confided Renée. "She laughed and it sounded real jolly! And even Elsbeth looked different after that."And wasn't itwonderfulto have a brother come back?"I don't mind his losing his arm," Renée whispered, "for I love him so much I want to do things for him and now he'll have to let me!"Long after Renée had fallen asleep Pat lay wide awake. There was so much to think about she was sure she could not ever shut her eyes again. And she could hear the steady murmur of voices downstairs--she wished she knew what they were talking about! Then a queer little disturbing thought commenced to eat at her heart. Renée, alone in the world, had been very close to her. She had seemed to feel that, because she had found Renée, Renée belonged to her--was something even closer than a friend or a sister! And now Renée had suddenly acquired a family and a home! As the tiny thought grew bigger and bigger and into a real Fear she sat up very straight and leaning across to Renée's bed, shook her violently."Ren! Ren!" and her voice rang tragically. "Promise me, on your scout's honor, that you'llalwayslove me more'n--everybody--except Emile!"Renée thought she was dreaming but she promised sleepily."Of course--I'll love you--more'n everybody--'cept Emile--on my scout's honor!" and just as, on that other night, months before, when Aunt Pen had tip-toed into their room to see that the little stranger was comfortable, they fell asleep, clasping hands.
CHAPTER XX
THE LOST BABY
"Ren, you look as though you'd stepped out of a picture book!"
Renée did, indeed! With odds and ends from the scrap-bag and the store-room upstairs she and Pat had put together an Alsatian costume. Pat, perched cross-legged in the middle of the bed with a book on Historical Costumes stretched across her knees, proclaimed her satisfaction with their handiwork while Renée turned and turned before the long mirror, stopping to spread out the full short skirt or perk up the enormous bow that adorned her head.
Keineth Randolph was going to give a party. It was to be a costume party; there was to be dancing as well as games; all the boys and girls of the Randolph's acquaintance had been invited. They always loved to go to the Randolph's home; the house, though small, seemed to have been built for the sole purpose of giving young people room for a good time; John Randolph, himself, could be as young as the youngest and Keineth, always good-humored, was a hospitable little hostess. Add real musicians, tucked off on the landing of the stair, a table in the corner of the dining-room laden with goodies dear to young folks, witches and goblins, lords and ladies of past kingdoms, monks, fairies, clowns and elves to make merry--well, "it will be one grand party!" Pat had declared.
She herself had been torn in mind as to what she wanted to be. She pictured herself as Jeanne d'Arc, glorious in silver armor and lance in hand; she considered Mary, Queen of Scots; then her romantic fancy favored Cinderella! But learning from Peggy that Garrett was going as the brave Powhatan, the Indian Chief, she promptly decided to tease Garrett by appearing as Pocahontas! Aunt Pen was shopping at that very moment trying to find the gayest feather duster in the city with which to decorate her.
"Pat, I'll wear my locket!" cried Renée, turning from the mirror.
She ran to her drawer as she spoke and drew from it the little case. Pat watched her approvingly as she fastened the bright red band about her throat. It added a piquant spot of color to the quaint costume and the curious old locket looked as though it might have been fashioned by some old artisan for a royal lady in the days when feudal lords reigned over France!
"It'sperfect!" Pat gave a leap over the low footboard of her bed to examine more closely Renée's entire appearance.
"You're going to be the best thing there," she declared conclusively. "I know everyone will be crazy over you!Won'tit be fun? I can't wait until Thursday comes! Only then it'll be over so soon!" And Pat sighed deeply, as millions of others have sighed over the rapid flight of time!
Maggie tapped at the door.
"There's a queer old woman downstairs a-asking for you, Miss Renée!"
"For me?" Renée turned, startled. Then a sudden thought enlightened her. "It must be Elsbeth!"
She ran quickly down the stairs to the door followed by Pat. It was Elsbeth, the queer old servant who lived with Mrs. Forrester. At sight of Renée she turned a face white with distress.
"Oh, Miss Renny, Miss Renny, she's took again! Mis' Lee sent me to fetch you! You must come!"
"What do you mean, Elsbeth--Mrs. Forrester? I'll go with you at once!"
"I think that'smean, Renée! We were going to plan my costume--youknowit!" protested Pat.
"Oh,Pat!" Renée's voice pleaded from the depths of the hall closet where she was hunting for her warm coat. "Oh, Pat--you wouldn't want me not to go! The poor thing!"
Pat was a little ashamed; however she did not want to show it--she cast an accusing look at old Elsbeth as though she was to blame.
"Well, I don't believe I'd leave you for any of the Kewpies, but I'll get along somehow!" and assuming the air of a martyr she started slowly back up the stairs.
"I'll get back as quickly as I can, truly, Patsy, so wait for me!" Pat paused in her ascent. "You're never going inthatcostume, are you?"
Renée had completely forgotten what she had on! However, she only laughed and buttoned the coat up closely about her throat.
"Oh, it won't make any difference! I'm ready, Elsbeth--let's hurry!"
"She was took last night with one of her spells and cried and wouldn't take her powders! And to-day she's still like she was dead," the old servant explained to Renée as they almost ran through the streets. They made a curious pair--the young girl's scarlet skirts swinging out below the coat, the gilded cardboard with which she had covered her slippers flopping about her ankles and the ends of the big black bow peeping out from under the soft hat she had clapped upon her head; Elsbeth, hobbling in her effort to keep up with the younger feet, her loosened ends of stringy gray hair flying in every direction, and her hands rolled in the apron she tried vainly to conceal under the short, shabby jacket she wore.
"The Lord sent Mis' Lee," she gasped, panting for breath, "and she sez--go fetch Miss Renny! An' I come!"
"She'll be better, I know, with Mrs. Lee there! Don't worry, Elsbeth," and Renée, heedless of the panting breath beside her, quickened her pace so that in a very few minutes she was tapping at the door.
Mrs. Lee opened it and drew Renée into the dingy parlor. She went to one of the windows and raised the shade to the very top, letting in a flood of warm sunshine. Then she whispered to Renée:
"The doctor is with her now. It is the first time since I have known her that we could get her to see a doctor! Take off your coat, my dear! Oh----" she stared for a moment, puzzled, then laughed: "you were trying on your costume for Keineth's party! You are a picture, my dear!" She hesitated, as though something in Renée's face suddenly held her attention.
"Just for a moment you made me think of someone, but I can't tell who! Perhaps it is that you so thoroughly look the part of a little Maid of Alsace! I thought, while we were waiting, I might tell you a little more of poor Mrs. Forrester's story. Then you will understand why she suffers as she does! She was not always alone as she is now--she once had a beautiful young daughter----"
"Oh," broke in Renée, excitedly, "was that the lost baby?"
"Yes, though she was twenty years old! Now the mother always thinks of her as a baby."
"Did she die?"
"No--to Mrs. Forrester then it was worse than death. The two of them seemed to have been quite alone in the world; the mother cared for nothing but the little girl. Every luxury that money could buy she heaped upon her with a lavish hand. One might think that the child would have been dreadfully spoiled but those who knew them say she was sweet and gentle, pretty as a flower. When she was a little older the mother took her away--she must have the best schooling that money could obtain. They traveled a great deal, too. And all the while, as the young girl grew toward womanhood, the proud mother was building plans for the wonderful future her child must have! I do not know of just what greatness she dreamed--whether it was of some Duchess Somebody or even a prince's title--I only know that she held money and high social position as the greatest gifts with which a Kindly Providence could endow her flower and lost sight of what makes real happiness in this world!
"It sounds like a fairy tale, my dear! While the proud mother was dreaming her golden dreams, the young girl met and fell in love with a poor artist--a boy, for he was only twenty-two, whose family was quite unknown and who had nothing in the wide world but a profound belief in his own great talent. The young girl went proudly and joyously with him to the mother to tell of their happiness. The mother would only believe that the boy was an adventurer--a fortune seeker; she saw an end to the plans of her whole lifetime, an obscure future for the girl she had so carefully educated. She sent the young man away and forbade his communicating in any way with her daughter. For weeks the girl pleaded vainly, the mother would not listen; in a fury of disappointment she even locked her for days in her room, thinking to break the young will! But there is an old saying that true love will find a way--the day came when the young girl slipped away, joined her lover and a few hours later returned to tell the mother that they had been married. Then it was that anger and baffled pride drove out all love and justice from the mother's heart; heaping curses upon the frightened girl she drove her from her, bidding her never cross her path again! The girl and boy went away and from that day to this the unhappy woman has never laid eyes upon them. Her rage brought about a spell not unlike what she is having now; for days and days she lay in her bed refusing to let anyone near her. Then, finally, as the weeks grew into months, slowly into her heart crept the realization of what she had done. Remorse began eating at her soul. She tried vainly to find some trace of the daughter; with only Elsbeth she wandered for month after month over every country of the globe, seeking everywhere! She spent almost a fortune on her search. But there was never a sign. It was as if the world had swallowed them. And, finally, broken by her sorrow, unhappy and discouraged, without any friends and with only a little of her former wealth left, she came back to this city and to this old house. It looked then just the way it does now. She threw out anything in it that might make it even a little cheerful and then settled down to die! But life, cruelly enough, has hung on and on! I have learned her story from things she has told me; for some strange reason she has seemed to want to confide in me. And Elsbeth, too, has sometimes softened a little and talked about the old days! That is her sad story, my dear! I know, now, how tender you will always be with her and I have often thought that perhaps you may remind her--a little--of the--lost baby, because you are young and like a flower, too!"
Two bright spots of color burned in Renée's cheeks. To herself she was saying: "Waituntil I tell Pat!" The thrill of the secret of the lost baby held her more than any sympathy for the old lady; perhaps deep in her heart some sense of justice told her that the proud mother had had just the punishment she deserved.
Mrs. Lee had turned toward the door. "The doctor is going! Wait here, Renée, until I call you. He may have some directions to give."
Renée looked about the room. What a horrible place! Even the gold of the sunlight dimmed to a cold lustre as it lay across the dusty surface of the shabby furniture! Everything was so unspeakably ugly and so still! She suddenly felt very lonely. A moment's wild impulse tempted her to run back to Pat as fast as her feet could fly! They had been having such fun fixing the costumes; the pink-curtained room had been so cheery, Peter Pan had been singing so lustily--why should she stay here?
Except for the low murmur of voices from the hall where Mrs. Lee was talking to the doctor, the only sound to break the awful stillness was the loud ticking of old Elsbeth's clock in the kitchen. It had a mournfully resentful tick as much as to say to its unhappy listeners: "No matter how wretched you feel, I go on--I go on--I go on!"
The door going into the room where Mrs. Forrester lay was closed. As she thought of crossing its threshold little Renée shuddered. A fear she could not explain gripped her! After all, she was only a little girl; she had never seen anyone suffer--except Gabriel when he was tortured with his rheumatism; she had never seen anyone die--her own dear mother had seemed to just go to sleep! And what if Mrs. Forrester should die? If she wanted to go back home, surely Mrs. Lee would let her go!
And then, as she waited, bits of the story Mrs. Lee had told her flashed back across her thoughts and held her. Now her sympathy was not so much for the girl bride as for the poor, lonely mother, wandering broken-hearted, over the world!
"The poor thing!" she said aloud, and then jumped at the sound of her own voice.
A door closed behind the doctor; Mrs. Lee came into the room.
"She is quiet now. The doctor says there is no danger. It is all her nerves. Only--women her age can't indulge in hysterics without serious results! What a picture you are in all this gloom, child! It's a strange coincidence that you should have had this dress on! Perhaps it will rouse her."
Somehow, now, Renée did not feel a bit like asking to go home. She was not even very much afraid. With Mrs. Lee she stepped softly down the dim hall toward the closed door.
"Anything, Renée, that will make her forget herself will help her," whispered Mrs. Lee. "Tell her about Keineth's party--anything!" They walked into the room. The doctor had raised one of the cracked shades so that the sun was slanting in. Mrs. Lee had put some extra pillows under the patient's head; she was half-sitting, a pathetically little figure in the great ugly bed. Her face was turned toward the wall. She lay perfectly still; Renée might have thought that, like her mother, she was sleeping, except that her thin fingers twitched at the edge of the bedspread.
"I have brought Renée," Mrs. Lee said softly.
There was no answer.
"Perhaps you would like to have her stay with you for a little while!"
"Oh--go away--allof you!" came pettishly. "Can't you let an old woman die in peace? Will it ever come?" she moaned into her pillow.
Renée felt so indignant that anyone should be praying like this to die that she stepped to the side of the bed.
"But the doctor says you arenotgoing to die," she answered quickly, with a stubborn note in her sweet voice.
The moment she had spoken she was very frightened but she could not have said anything that would have so quickly roused the old lady. It roused her because it angered her; she jerked her head around. However, what she might have retorted in answer was checked by her utter amazement at seeing the strange, quaint little figure by her bedside.
"Who are you?" she demanded angrily. "Who let you in here?"
The child stepped closer. "I'm Renée!" she answered gently.
"You that little Renée? Come here!" Mrs. Forrester commanded stretching out a thin hand.
Renée stepped close to the head of the bed and leaned over. Mrs. Forrester touched her cheek and her hair.
"So it is! So it is!" and her voice softened. Then a gleam of sunlight from the unshaded window struck across the curious old locket. Suddenly the sick woman sat bolt upright in bed and clutched with both hands at the red band.
"That--that----" she screamed. "Where did you get it?" She tore at the velvet band until it hurt Renée cruelly. Her voice rose to a shriek. "It is hers! My baby!"
As her fingers fumbled over the face of the locket a part of it suddenly opened and from a hiding place within dropped a tiny gold key! The old lady cried loudly and held it up.
"I knew it! I knew it!" Then she sank back among the pillows, turned slowly to Renée and whispered hoarsely:
"But who are you?"
CHAPTER XXI
RENÉE'S BOX
"Who are you?"
Of course they all thought Mrs. Forrester was having a spell! Renée was terribly frightened--the more so because now one of the thin hands was gripping her arm so that it hurt.
Elsbeth, more wild and disheveled than ever, pushed at Renée and leaned over the bed, a tumbler in one hand, some powders in the other.
"Mis' Forrester!Please, Mis' Forrester!" she pleaded, tears running down her wrinkled cheeks.
But Mrs. Forrester struck angrily at the hand holding the powders and sent them in a tiny cloud of dust all over the covers.
"Go away, you old fool!" she cried, "can't you see I've found my baby? No one else anywhere in the world had a locket like that!"
Mrs. Lee suddenly remembered who it was that Renée had looked like! It was the faded picture Elsbeth had once shown her of the young daughter of Mrs. Forrester! She stepped forward now and answered for Renée.
"She is Renée LaDue, but I think--I believe--shemustbe your grandchild!"
Mrs. Forrester was sitting bolt upright and the pillows had fallen all about her. Two bright spots of red burned on her cheeks and her eyes, as they stared through and through Renée, were alight with life. She was a different creature from the one who had lain limply on the ugly bed, her face turned toward the wall! Only her voice still sounded weak and shrill.
"Your mother--answer, child!"
Then, more than anything else in the world, Renée wanted to run away! But the hand on her arm held her tight. And, too, who was this old lady who had known that the key was in the locket when she and Emile had not known it?
"My mother's name was Amy----"
"My baby!" Now the old lady sank back among the pillows; she commenced to sob--dry, heart-breaking sobs, "My baby! You are her little girl! I have found her!"
And then a strange thing happened! For suddenly Renée lost all her fear and over her swept a joy that she had found someone--someone to really, truly belong to! So very shyly she reached out and took one of the thin hands in her own.
Mrs. Lee gently told the old woman as much of Renée as she knew; how the mother had died five years before, how she had made the brother promise to some day bring the little girl back to America to live, how the brother had given his life for France, the country of his mother's adoption, and an American officer had fulfilled the promise. As she listened Mrs. Forrester kept her eyes fastened on Renée's face and Renée held tightly to the trembling hand.
When Mrs. Lee had finished Mrs. Forrester lay still for a long time. Then she said softly: "God has been good to a wicked old woman because my flower had gone to Heaven and pleaded for me! I am forgiven." And she closed her eyes as though at last a peace of soul had come upon her!
"Is--is the key--a key to a box?" Renée asked.
Her grandmother roused suddenly.
"Yes--yes! A leather box--have you got it? My grandmother gave it to my darling--with the locket--when she was fifteen."
"My mother gave it to Emile just before--she died! She never told him about the key but she made him promise to let no one break it open. And of course we never would!"
"Shall I go and get it?" asked Mrs. Lee. She felt that for a little while it might be better to leave the old lady and the child alone. Renée made a move as though to go, too, but Mrs. Lee motioned her back.
"Aunt Pen will tell me where I can find it! You stay here, my dear," and she hurried away.
Elsbeth had been watching the unusual happenings with a suspicious, jealous eye. She loved her strange old mistress better than anything on earth; she resented these strangers usurping her place!
"Missus had best lay down now and keep quiet," she said, coming forward with an authoritative air. "If ye'll jes' take a powder----" But she got no further; Mrs. Forrester burst into a laugh! And Elsbeth was so startled that her knees knocked together, for, not for many years, had she heard her mistress laugh--and such a laugh!
"Elsbeth, stupid, can't you see I'm a well woman? That I am happy again? None of your powders any more! Go about your business--ransack your pantry and find some food for my pretty one here! My flower--my baby!" And with a look that transformed her thin face she lifted her arms and closed them about little Renée.
"Tell me," she whispered, as though it must be a secret between them, "was she ever unhappy?"
Renée answered very slowly because she was thinking very hard. She tried to make the mother know that her own dear mother had been always cheerful, always singing and telling beautiful stories and playing with her among the flowers--and was only unhappy when Emile brought out the father's tools.
"That was because he had been blind, and I heard her tell Emile once that his heart had broken because he could not do his work! For a long time she guided his fingers for him! She herself used to take the things they made to Paris to sell, and, when she couldn't sell them, she and Susette used to hide them so he couldn't know--Susette told me all that! I think we were very, very poor, but my mother always seemed happy. She used to sew sometimes, until she was very tired. We never had anything but the flowers to play with and the games she used to make up. And she always talked of the time when she would bring us both to America! 'It was my country and it must be yours,' she used to tell us over and over!"
"Did she--did she--ever tell you--about me?"
Renée hesitated. She knew that what she must say would hurt the old lady deeply. But before she could speak Mrs. Forrester answered herself.
"Of course she would not! I had forbidden it!" and in her voice was the bitterness of remorse.
Then Renée told her of the cottage at St. Cloud where, since as far back as she could remember, they had lived with Susette and Gabriel. She told, too, of Emile and the days when he had gone to Paris to study with an old sculptor, and how bravely he had gone away to war with a company from St. Cloud!
Mrs. Forrester pushed Renée's hair back and looked intently at her.
"I can see it now! You are like her--a little! But your eyes are like--your father's."
There were voices in the hall and in a moment Mrs. Lee and Aunt Pen walked into the room. Aunt Pen was greatly excited and came straight to Renée.
"I am so glad, my dear," she whispered.
But no one had eyes for anything but the queer old box which Mrs. Lee had placed upon the bed.
"How old it looks," sighed Mrs. Forrester, caressing for a moment the worn leather. Her fingers trembled so that she could not hold the tiny key and it was Renée who fitted it into the lock and turned it. It turned slowly and the lid fell back, revealing packages of papers and letters, tied neatly together.
Although not knowing exactly what she had always imagined was in the box, Renée was vaguely disappointed! But Mrs. Forrester fell to eagerly sorting over the packages. Lying loose among them was a folded sheet, addressed to herself.
"Her writing!" she cried, holding it close to her eyes. "Read it for me--I cannot."
"Dearest of mothers," Renée read. The writing showed that the letter had been written under stress of deep emotion. "It was only because he needed me so much, for the doctors had told him his eyesight was slowly going, that I could hurt you by acting against your wishes. And sometime you may know that I have always loved you dearly and that I forgive you as I pray you will forgive me."
"Oh, my darling," and a flood of tears dropped on the sheet of paper. "It is as though she was speaking to me!" she whispered, kissing the lines. And indeed a great stillness held the room as though each of those in it felt, too, the spirit of Renée's young mother among them!
Mrs. Forrester, her eyes still dim with tears, spread out the other papers and she and Mrs. Lee and Aunt Pen fell to examining them, while Renée watched, feeling as though it was all a dream.
They found an old journal whose contents explained how John LaDue, who before his marriage with Amy Forrester had been John Tellers, had gone with his young bride to Paris where they had taken the name of LaDue. Living as they did in simple obscurity, and because John Tellers had been born and brought up among the French-speaking people of New Orleans, it was very easy for them to pass as a young French sculptor and his wife. And the friends they made were other young artists, struggling along like themselves, who could know nothing about the proud, unhappy woman who was traveling all over the world, seeking her daughter!
The journal stopped abruptly at the record of Renée's birth. Renée remembered Susette telling her that it was when she had been a tiny baby that her father had become totally blind and they had moved to St. Cloud that he might have the benefit of the pure air and the sunshine.
Aunt Pen discovered a package of papers that proved to be United States government bonds. They had been given to Renée's mother on her twentieth birthday, six months before her marriage. They had not been touched. Penelope exclaimed:
"A small fortune! And they are Renée's!"
Many thoughts were shaping in poor Renée's sadly bewildered little head. She had now, what Peggy always called "folks"--a grandmother and Elsbeth; even though it was an ugly old house she'd have a real, real home all of her own! She wouldnothave to go to the mountain place with her guardian and the strange French soldier! And yet that disturbed her a little. Emile had, in a way, given her into the guardian's keeping and not to a strange old woman! So, even though belonging to so many, Renée felt torn and unhappy. And she looked almost scornfully at the packet which Aunt Pen held up as though precious--howcouldjust plain papers like that be a fortune!
Mrs. Forrester, who looked less and less like a sick woman, commenced to slowly gather up the papers and place them back neatly in the leather box. When she shut down the lid she turned to Renée.
"I thank God that He has shown me His mercy! I have not deserved to find my darling. But I have been punished! No one knows how I have suffered! And maybe, even now, I am not fit to have you. I am an ugly old woman who has cast everything beautiful out of her life! Perhaps I have no right to keep you! You have good friends--go back to them, only keep in your heart a kind thought for an old woman----"
"Oh, I'llstay--I'd rather!" and Renée was quite startled that she could decide so quickly.
"You mean it? Oh, my baby--my pretty flower!" Then a sudden resolution lighted the old woman's face. "It will be as though that motherhood I sacrificed by my wicked pride was given back to me! Oh, Iknowhow wicked and wrong I was and how I wanted for my precious one only the things that my own pride clamored for! But you shall not stay now--my pretty flower would wither and fade in these ugly walls. I am well, again--and Elsbeth and I will clean out this place! It shall be made bright and pretty for my little one! You must go now, back with your good friends, then after a little----"
Every one thought that was best. Elsbeth came in with a tray of sandwiches and some cocoa. Every one was hungry because the dinner hour was long past and, in the excitement, had been forgotten. And as they ate, Mrs. Forrester, like a new creature, began energetically to give Elsbeth orders as to what she must do on the morrow to begin the work of transforming the ugly old house into a beautiful home for her "pretty flower."
Then, one by one, they said good-night to Mrs. Forrester, and Renée, leaning over, kissed her and whispered shyly:
"Good-night, grandmother! Very soon I will come back--to stay."
CHAPTER XXII
SURPRISES
"Dinner is served, Miss Pat!"
"Why, Aunt Pen and Renée are not here," cried Pat, looking up from a book.
"Miss Everett said that dinner should not wait! It is a quarter past seven."
"But my father----"
"Mr. Everett is dining out."
"Well, I never!" Pat threw down her book crossly. Drawing herself to her full height, she stalked down the length of the room on into the dining-room, where, at the end of the long table, alight with the sparkle of silver, glass and china, one lonely place had been set.
She wanted very much to throw a plate at Jasper who was biting his lip to keep from laughing at her aggrieved air. Instead she tossed her head higher and, in her haughtiest manner, ordered:
"Jasper, will you see at once what Melodia has made for dessert and,whateverit is, tell her that I want two extra big helpings!"
"So there!" she muttered to his retreating back and felt much better!
Pat had really had a very bad afternoon. She had not liked one bit having Renée rush away in the midst of all their fun fixing their costumes! She had helped Renée and Renée had left her to fix her own. She had felt decidedly aggrieved. Of course she was sorry for the sick old lady, but didn't Renée love her more than anyone else? Or didn't she?
When a little girl begins to ponder in such a fashion she can soon work herself into a sad state of blues. That was what Pat did! So that when Aunt Pen returned with a feather duster made of the biggest, brightest feathers that had ever grown to grace a young Indian princess, Pat didn't care whether or not she even went to Keineth's party!
Then the climax of her unhappiness was reached after Mrs. Lee rushed in with the story of the locket and the key. Aunt Pen and Pat had listened with eyes wide with astonishment.
"Oh, it'sjustlike a fairy story!" Pat had cried.
"Dear Renée! It will mean a home of her own for the child! I will get the box at once."
Pat was startled--a home of Renée's own! She had felt that they might coax the soldier-guardian to leave Renée with them forever and ever, but here was a new and much stronger claim! A real grandmother--even if it was a terrible old lady who had had a mystery!
Aunt Pen came back wearing her coat and hat. Pat jumped to her feet.
"Wait for me, Aunt Pen!"
"No, no, my dear! Too many of us may embarrass Mrs. Forrester! You must stay here."
"As ifIhadn't found Renée in the first place," thought Pat resentfully as they went away.
Even the thought that the mystery of the "lost baby" had been solved--and solved in such an amazing way, brought no comfort--rather a sense of envy! All the others had hadsuchexciting things happen to them! Sheila had had the lost formulas. And now Renée had the excitement of finding a grandmother! Nothing at all ever happened to her! To console herself she scornfully tore to bits the first four chapters of her story. She'd never try to be a famous author--she'd just grow up and do silly things like Celia always did--they were fun, anyway! And Aunt Pen and Renée, when they realized that she was never, never going to write any more stories, would feelverysorry!
That was Pat's state of mind when she sat down to eat her lonely dinner.
Then the doorbell rang. Pat heard a man's voice talking to Jasper. She heard Jasper step toward the library. She was immensely curious--for even a very unhappy person can be curious! Daddy was not at home--it was too early in the evening for callers--who could it be? She pushed her chair back and tip-toed toward the hall.
An hour later Aunt Pen and Renée, returning home, were met at the door by a wildly-excited Pat. Her blues had disappeared like magic--the expression of her face, every motion of her body indicated that she had a secret! She held her fingers to her lips to forbid a sound. Then seizing them both by the elbows she whispered into their amazed ears:
"Oh, thebestest, grandestsurprise you ever,everknew!" And Pat danced up and down and giggled deep in her throat to make them know that grandmothers and lost babies were as nothing compared to the surprise she had for them within the house!
"Pat Everett, are youcrazy?" whispered Aunt Pen back. "Aren't you going to let us in?"
"Of course!" answered Pat with importance. "You may walk in and go atonceinto the library! But you must shut your eyestightand promise not to peek until I count----"
"It's your mother!" declared Penelope, eagerly.
"Nopey--it's a bigger surprise than that! No fair guessing, only you couldn't anyway! Now come in and shut your eyes!"
So they had to do just what Pat told them to do! And Pat, happier than she had ever been in her life, dancing rather than stepping, led them into the library. She had no chance to count--a sudden, quick exclamation made them both open their eyes!
For some one had said: "Pen--Everett!" But Renée's sharp cry drowned out the sound. She saw, standing a little behind Capt. Allan, thin in his shabby French uniform, the empty sleeve pinned to his tunic, Emile--her beloved Emile!
In an instant she was in the tight clasp of his arm--they were both crying--poor little Renée's heart could stand no more! And as she clung to him her fingers were feeling across his face and through his hair and over the cloth of his uniform as though to tell her it wasnota dream buttrue!
Pat was so happy for Renée that she found her own eyes wet and turned away to keep back the tears. And there was Aunt Pen, the color of a red poppy, slipping out of Capt. Allan's arm!
"I might have known, Miss Pat, that you and I were old friends--because I used to think I had a sort of solid claim on this aunt of yours--only I didn't know she was your aunt!"
With a triumphant look Pat tried to tell Aunt Pen that she had guessed it all a long time ago but Aunt Pen, as radiant as a school girl, was beaming upon Capt. Allan and Capt. Allan was shaking Pat's hands as though he had to do something violent.
Then Aunt Pen went to Renée and kissed Emile--for, in spite of the deep lines that his suffering had carved on his face--he looked like a boy!
"It is just as though God was working miracles," she whispered to Renée.
There was so much to tell that no one knew just where to begin! They all knew, now, that Capt. Allan's French soldier, whom he had found in the old peasant's cottage, was Emile. Then Emile, still holding Renée in the circle of his arm as though he could not bear to let her go for one little moment, told how he and the private who had been left by the scouting party, had had to separate in order to get back to their line.
"I had a presentiment that I was going to be killed--I gave him my wallet with all my papers and the sketches I had made. That was why they thought it was I who had been killed!"
No one wanted to spoil the joy of the evening by asking Emile to tell of his experiences in the German prison. It was enough that he was there with Renée once more--in America! Everyone's eyes were very bright and every now and then everyone was very still, as though the happiness was too great to be spoken in mere words!
Then Mr. Everett came in and the surprise was a surprise all over again, and Pat, because it had been her surprise, was allowed to tell him all about it. He shook hands very warmly with Capt. Allan and Emile, and laid his arm tenderly over the boy's shoulder as though to express things he could not say!
They laughed at Capt. Allan because they caught him so often staring at Renée!
"Whathaveyou done to her? It's hard to believe she's the same little girl I picked up at St. Cloud!"
"It's Penelope's work," answered Mr. Everett; "she's been doing some experimenting!"
Renée, indeed, was a different child. She had grown taller, sturdier, her face had lost its delicacy of line and color; now she had, too, in her step and look the spirit and vigor that only healthy, happy living can give.
Suddenly Aunt Pen exclaimed: "Goodness me, Renée, we've forgotten to tell about----"
"The Lost Baby!" cried Pat
So there were new surprises all around! It seemed more like a fairy story than ever--to find, in a few hours, a grandmother and a brother! Emile was deeply interested; he listened gravely. He knew perhaps more of his mother's sacrifices and hardships than Renée had known; for a moment, deep in his heart, he found it hard to feel kindly toward the proud woman who had made his mother unhappy. Then as Aunt Pen described her lonely life in the old house, the dreary days shut in with her grief and her remorse, just as Renée had, he felt a wave of tenderness.
"She is going to begin right away making the old house bright and pretty and nice to live in! And think how happy she'll be to know Emile has come back!" cried Renée.
"Well, it looks as thoughIwas the one who had lost out all around," broke in Capt. Allan, although he did not look one bit unhappy as he said it. In fact, his eyes were fastened on Aunt Pen's face with a sort of eager questioning in them that kept the blushes coming and going on her cheeks. "I thought I had gotten together a nice little family! However, I shall go on with my plan of fixing up that old place in the mountains and maybe, sometime, I can induce my ward and her brother and her grandmother to make a poor, lonely ex-guardian a visit!"
"And me!" put in Pat, eagerly, for she was certain he was in earnest.
"And me!" laughed Aunt Pen with a look that seemed to flash back an answer to Capt. Allan.
"I think you girlies had better go to bed!" Mr. Everett had noticed that Renée's eyes were looking very tired. She had had a most exciting day. And on the morrow she must go again to the grandmother's with Emile.
Pat consented to go to bed only when Capt. Allan and Emile promised to spend the night with them!
She and Renée whispered together for a long time. Pat must hear just how Renée felt the moment she knew the cross old lady was hervery owngrandmother!
"I don't believe she'll be cross when she's happy," confided Renée. "She laughed and it sounded real jolly! And even Elsbeth looked different after that."
And wasn't itwonderfulto have a brother come back?
"I don't mind his losing his arm," Renée whispered, "for I love him so much I want to do things for him and now he'll have to let me!"
Long after Renée had fallen asleep Pat lay wide awake. There was so much to think about she was sure she could not ever shut her eyes again. And she could hear the steady murmur of voices downstairs--she wished she knew what they were talking about! Then a queer little disturbing thought commenced to eat at her heart. Renée, alone in the world, had been very close to her. She had seemed to feel that, because she had found Renée, Renée belonged to her--was something even closer than a friend or a sister! And now Renée had suddenly acquired a family and a home! As the tiny thought grew bigger and bigger and into a real Fear she sat up very straight and leaning across to Renée's bed, shook her violently.
"Ren! Ren!" and her voice rang tragically. "Promise me, on your scout's honor, that you'llalwayslove me more'n--everybody--except Emile!"
Renée thought she was dreaming but she promised sleepily.
"Of course--I'll love you--more'n everybody--'cept Emile--on my scout's honor!" and just as, on that other night, months before, when Aunt Pen had tip-toed into their room to see that the little stranger was comfortable, they fell asleep, clasping hands.