"Oh, Jeanne, my little one, ma cherie! Where have you been?" cried Auntie Sue.

It was quite evident that poor Auntie Sue had been worried ill. She caught the little dreamer and the puppet into her arms. She hugged them so tightly that Jeanne thought they would both be crushed. Jeanne was more concerned about Pierrot than about herself, though, for he was so little and frail.

Then Auntie put Jeanne to bed with Pierrot beside her, his face peering out from the covers.

And when Auntie had left them alone, Jeanne whispered to her little puppet friend, "Pierrot, the policeman shall not be bad in our stories!

He is good, you see. In our stories you shall be the hero. The policeman shall be a kind man who loves children. Guignol shall be the wicked one, and you shall kick and beat him."

Pierrot did not move. Jeanne was awake now, you see. And puppets do not move by themselves when children are awake.

But Jeanne thought she saw his eyes twinkle and his nose wriggle just the least bit, before she popped off to sleep.

CHAPTER X

THE LIVE PUPPET

After Auntie left Jeanne and the Pierrot asleep in bed that night, she went into her own room and sat down by her little table. She shaded her eyes with her hands and thought very hard.

Poor Auntie Sue was unhappy. There was a little voice inside of her that never would be still. This voice talked and talked and talked. No one could hear it but Auntie Sue. It was not a person, nor was it a fairy.

Yet it was there, and it talked to Auntie Sue.

People call that voice Conscience. You see, many other people beside Auntie Sue have heard that voice. He is known to everyone who does wrong.

And Auntie Sue had done great wrong. Not knowing it, she had been doing a great wrong all these years she had kept Jeanne from her rightful home. And now that voice called Conscience was tormenting her.

To-night he was talking more loudly and more fiercely than he had ever talked before. As Auntie Sue sat before her little table, he did not leave her a moment's peace.

[Ill.u.s.tration: JEANNE SHOWING A NEW FROCK]

"You see what has happened," he said inside of Auntie Sue. "You see what you have done by keeping Jeanne from Madame Villard. She is starved for play.

"You have made her a poor little girl who has to work. If she lived in the lovely apartment house with her grandmother, she could play and play and play."

Suzanne clapped her hands over her ears to stop the voice. But Conscience came from her heart and did not need her ears to hear him.

He went right on, "What would that soldier say? What would the old man say? What would the grandmother say? And Major d'Artrot?"

"Oh, Major d'Artrot, my good, my honest friend!" sobbed Suzanne.

She thought of her only friend in all the world. She would never dare to confess to him what she had done!

She opened her drawer and looked at the picture in the locket. She read again the name and address which had been pinned to the baby's skirt so many years ago: "Madame Villard. Avenue Champs Elysees."

[Ill.u.s.tration: SHE READ AGAIN THE NAME AND ADDRESS]

The face of Jeanne's father looked back at her. It seemed to her that his eyes were accusing her.

"You have kept her from her rightful home and from the pleasures of childhood," went on the voice. And the face in the locket seemed to agree with the voice.

"To-night the child stayed in the park with a puppet--the only play toy she has ever had. She fell asleep in front of the Guignol, where happy children go to clap and laugh. But you give Jeanne no time for play and laughter."

It was all true. But Suzanne knew that if Jeanne stopped showing the clothes she made, her audience would cease to be interested. If she did not draw her audience, she could not sell the clothes. And if she did not sell the clothes, she could not support Jeanne.

It was all quite terrible for Auntie Sue. And she dared not mention it to a soul. n.o.body knew that Jeanne did not belong to her. n.o.body knew Jeanne's story, not even the Major.

CHAPTER XI

LITTLE SPOILED MARGOT

"Grandmother! Grandmother! Home again! How glad I am!"

Little Margot threw herself into Madame Villard's arms, and the old lady hugged her close.

"Yes, my little Margot. Grandmother comes back for one splendid occasion!"

"Ah, my birthday," smiled Margot.

And then Grandmother and Margot planned for that birthday. It was strange how Margot did not like so many things.

When Grandmother mentioned a theater party, the little girl shook her dark head.

"No, it is not what I like," she said.

Then Grandmother suggested a trip to the zoo with a party of girls and boys.

"No, I do not like the zoo!" Margot pouted.

"A Guignol party, cherie?" asked Grandmother.

"Ah, no! They are so stupid!" complained Margot.

And Grandmother smiled and shook her head.

"My Margot is a little bit spoiled, perhaps," she observed.

Margot was not a little bit, but a great big bit spoiled. Grandmother and Mother had both spoiled her, from the day she was born.

Mother was nearly always with Father and Margot saw little of her. When they were together Mother would kiss and hug a great deal and sometimes she would cry. There were always gifts in Mother's room for Margot.

And when Mother brought her into Father's room, he, too, would pet and caress her and give her toys or candy. Poor, helpless Father! He loved to see his little girl. It made his dull eyes brighten when she came into the room.