,--for there were terrors
in such a journey to the mind of a simple peasant who had so far
traveled but in one groove. She would not even wait to consult _Monsieur
le Cure_, who was unfortunately absent. Jeanne discovered to her
astonishment that she had already made her small preparations, had
packed her best garments in a little wooden box, laying the silk gown
and lace cap at the top that they might be in readiness.

"I will not interfere at all, and I shall not remain long," she said.
"Only long enough to see my Laure, and spend a few days with her
quietly. It is not Paris I care for, or the great sights; it is that I
must see my child."

St. Croix was fairly bewildered at the news it heard the next day. Mere
Giraud had gone to Paris to visit Madame Legrand--had actually gone,
sending her little servant home, and shutting up her small, trim
cottage.

"Let us hope that Madame Legrand will receive her as she expects to be
received," said Annot. "For my part I should have preferred to remain
in St. Croix. Only yesterday Jeanne Tallot told us that she had no
intention of going."

"She will see wonderful things," said the more simple and amiable. "It
is possible that she may be invited to the Tuileries, and without doubt
she will drive to the Bois de Boulogne in Madame Legrand's carriage,
with servants in livery to attend her. My uncle's sister's son, who is a
_valet de place_ in a great family, tells us that the aristocracy
drive up and down the Champs Ellysees every afternoon, and the sight is
magnificent."

But Mere Giraud did not look forward to such splendors as these. "I
shall see my Laure as a great lady," she said to herself. "I shall hold
her white hands and kiss her cheeks."

The roar of vehicles, and the rush and crowd and bustle bewildered her;
the brightness and the rolling wheels dazzled her old eyes, but she held
herself bravely. People to whom she spoke smiled at her _patois_ and her
innocent questions, but she did not care.

She found a _fiacre_ which took her to her destination; and when, after
she had paid the driver, he left her, she entered the wide doors with
a beating heart, the blood rising on her cheek, and glowing through the
withered skin.

"Madame Legrand," she said a little proudly to the _concierge_, and the
woman stared at her as she led her up the staircase. She was so eager
that she scarcely saw the beauty around her,--the thick, soft carpets,
the carved balustrades, the superb