The taxi rolled along the Champs Elysées and finally, turned into the
Avenue Victor Hugo and stopped at Number Five _Bis_.
"Behold, we have arrived, Mademoiselle," smiled the driver genially,
as he turned about and looked down at her from his seat.
Marie rose hurriedly and stepped to the street. As she opened her
purse to pay the man, she suddenly realized that she had nothing but
Austrian money.
"I have no French money. Will you--can you take _this?" and she held
out a small handful of _hellers_ and kronen_.
The man looked dubiously at the unfamiliar coins, and lifted
expressive shoulders.
"But Mademoiselle, what can I do with those?" he said. "Go in the
house and get it from your friends."
Marie's heart sank. Suppose the Le Grands no longer lived here!
Suppose a thousand things! But realizing that the man must be paid,
she decided to do as he suggested. She stooped to pick up her bag,
but he stopped her.
"Oh no, Mademoiselle, allow me," and taking it from her, he followed
her to the door. It was a long way from the _Gare du Nord_. He was
not anxious to lose sight of his fare.
A stout, red-haired man with weak eyes and a green apron tied loosely
about him, opened the door.
"Does Monsieur Le Grand, Monsieur Jules Le Grand live here?" asked
Marie nervously.
It seemed an age to her before he answered.
"But yes," he said at last, "they have been living here this long
time."
"Will you take me to them, please?" Marie could have thrown her arms
about his thick neck.
The man bowed politely, and picking up her bag, led the way.
She turned to the waiting driver.
"I'll send down your money. Wait, please!" she said, and followed
the red-haired man through the doorway into the courtyard.
He handed her into the little _ascenseur_, and touching the button,
bowed as he closed the door.
On the way up, Marie repeated a prayer of gratitude over and over to
herself, adding one with the hope that these cousins would be glad to
see her.
As she got out at the door of the Le Grand apartment, a neat little
maid opened it.
"Is Monsieur Le Grand at home?" she asked timidly, and as the girl
answered in the affirmative, she added, "tell him his cousin from
Vienna--his cousin Marie Helmar is here!"
Almost as she spoke, a tall stout man with a heavy black beard
appeared in the doorway of what seemed to be a little salon.
He looked at Marie a moment and then came toward her with both hands
extended.
"Ah, my little cousin," he cried in a cheerful bass voice. "My
little cousin! But I'm glad to see you. Welcome to Paris!" He
kissed her resoundingly on both cheeks, and drew her in through the
door which the neat little maid closed after her.
"Oh, Cousin Jules," and Marie let the foolish tears run down her
cheeks as they would, "I was so afraid you wouldn't remember me! I
was so afraid you wouldn't live here any more!"
"_Maman_," called Monsieur Le Grand, "come and see who is here!"
"Please, cousin Jules," hesitated Marie, "the taxi driver is waiting.
My money is all Austrian--could you----?" and she displayed her purse
with its foreign coins.
The big man laughed.
"Surely, little cousin," he said, as he drew a leather bag from his
pocket, and extracted the necessary francs. "Here, Julie, run and
pay the man," and picking up Marie's bag he led the way into the
salon.
Madame Le Grand was a pretty little woman, round and dimpled, her
hair and eyes as black as the shining silk of her gown. Two tall,
slim girls stood beside her, their eyes dark like their mother's,
their straight hair loose over their shoulders.
"This is the little Marie, _Maman_," smiled the big man, "this is the
little blond cousin from Vienna," and he led the girl forward.
Madame Le Grand kissed her affectionately as did both the girls.
Monsieur Le Grand and _Maman_, who she found was to be called Cousin
Françine, asking questions volubly. How long had she to stay? Why
had she not let them know? Why had they not heard from her since the
lawyer had written of her poor papa's death? Did she know how much
she looked like her poor papa? Or was it her poor mamma she
resembled? And so on, and so on, until finally for sheer want of
breath, they stopped, and Marie began.
"I didn't decide to come until the day before yesterday," she said in
her careful French; "but now, I am not going back. I expect to make
my home in Paris. I must find employment."
Monsieur Le Grand looked at her in surprise.
"You must earn your own living?"
"Yes; poor papa left me very little, and it is all gone."
Her cousins looked at each other sadly.
"Never mind," soothed the big black-bearded man, "to-day you will be
comfortable and have a good rest. To-morrow we will discuss your
affairs."
"Fleurette, my angel," said Madame to one of the girls, "show Cousin
Marie into the little blue room. You can arrange your toilette, my
dear, and afterward Sidonie will come and get you for luncheon."
Marie smiled gratefully. How wonderful things were. Madame patted
her kindly on the arm as she turned and followed one of the two tall
girls.
The blue room proved to be very pretty, dainty and sweet as the one
Marie had had in her father's house. The sight of it brought back
the thought of him bitterly, and tears welled into her eyes.
Fleurette comforted her shyly, and after refreshing her face and
brushing out her soft hair with Fleurette's interested assistance,
she opened her bag and shook out a fresh blouse which she proceeded
to put on.
"What should I have done if you had moved away?" she asked, and
Fleurette shrugged expressive and sympathetic shoulders.
Presently, Sidonie, the second of the two sisters, came in to say
that luncheon was ready, and with one of her young cousins on either
arm, Marie went into the dining-room.
It was a happier meal than she had eaten for some time. Truly, she
was born again. Here, no one knew anything about her, excepting that
she had been raised in a convent and was her father's daughter. The
girl found herself wondering if she were dreaming, if suddenly she
should awaken and find that all these cheerful, black-eyed cousins
had disappeared, and Von Pfaffen's hard, cruel face was opposite her.
But one thing she had learned from him was that her face must be a
mask to conceal emotions, not a window to let them shine through.
She had learned that her "convent eyes" as Von Pfaffen used to call
them, were a useful asset, and though her faith and trust in the
world had died, she shut her resentment resolutely away and smiled.
The time passed pleasantly, and that night Marie slept soundly for
the first time in many days. When she opened her eyes the next
morning, the sun was streaming into her room. She felt it to be a
happy omen, a harbinger of better things.
That afternoon Monsieur Le Grand called her to him.
"We have been talking, the good _Maman_ and I," he said in his
rumbling bass voice. "Would you like to stay here with us, even
after your visit is over, and, well, teach Fleurette and Sidonie the
German language, a little painting, and perhaps some music? Would
you like that?"
_Maman_ smiled into her eyes.
"Would you, little cousin?" she asked.
Marie's heart was full. This was almost too good a fortune to be
true, but she managed to answer them gratefully.
"You are so kind, so good, what would I have done if I had not found
you? What I can, I will gladly do."
This past year was one that had shaken her faith in every one and
everything, but surely these people must be genuine. She was afraid,
however, to give way to the feeling of comfort and trust that filled
her, her experiences had taught her suspicion of those about her.
Sadly she realized that convention sometimes requires people to do
and say things to impress the ear and the eye only. She knew now,
that real personalities were guarded jealously. One's real self must
be carefully concealed from the knowledge and the eyes of those with
whom one came in contact. She was afraid to trust what seemed so
sincere, so kindly. She must weigh even her seemingly generous
cousins. She must try and analyze even their motives and be on her
guard. But she also knew she must let none of these thoughts be seen.
She held out her hands to her cousin and his wife and looked into
their eyes with her own wide blue ones, and so her new life, the life
that was born again, began.