JEANNE
Jeanne grew under the loving and tender care of Suzanne. Never once did
Suzanne approach the stately apartment house on the Avenue Champs
Elysées. Never once did she allow Jeanne to go in that direction.
[Illustration: JEANNE]
Several years passed. Jeanne was now a tall girl. But still Auntie Sue
had a terrible feeling about that apartment house.
Suzanne was still known as Auntie Sue. And between the poor little
dressmaker and Jeanne, Auntie Sue's Shop had grown up in Paris.
Paris, you know, is the place from which your mother's or auntie's or
grandmother's most fashionable clothes come. Nearly everyone who visits
Paris buys a Parisian gown.
The French are well dressed. The French dressmakers know well how to cut
and fit and sew.
Then, too, when little ones go to Paris with their mothers, they, too,
are fitted with dresses and hats and coats made by the Parisian
dressmakers.
Auntie Sue fitted many, many children. She fitted children who lived in
Paris, also children who came from America and Spain and Italy and
Germany and from other parts of the world.
For Auntie Sue's Shop was well known. It was known because, for one
thing, Auntie Sue was clever and could make beautiful children's
clothes.
[Illustration: THE WINDOW OF AUNTIE SUE'S SHOP IN PARIS]
It was known for another reason, and perhaps a better one. That reason
was Jeanne!
Jeanne put on all of Auntie's little models. She showed them to the
people who came to buy clothes for their children.
Jeanne walked about the pretty little room, with its dainty show-cases
and Parisian dolls and model coats and hats. She walked about the room
and wore the clothes that Auntie Sue had made.
And when the children's mothers came to buy, they said, "Isn't that a
beautiful little coat?" or, "Doesn't she look sweet in that little
dress?"
Jeanne always looked sweet and pretty in everything she wore. Jeanne
walked very straight and held her head high and smiled at all the
people. She seemed to belong in those clothes.
So every mother thought that her child would look as well as Jeanne
looked. Of course some of them did, but not all. Jeanne was known
throughout Paris--throughout "child-and-mother-Paris"--as the "Little
Model."
You may think that she became haughty and proud because so many people
knew about her and came to watch her. But this was not the case at all.
Jeanne never thought of things like that. She was too busy ever to think
of such things. While she loved to help Auntie Sue, it was hard work,
and often Auntie Sue worried.
"Ma chérie," she would say to Jeanne as she stroked her silky brown
curls, "you are happy; are you not? You do not mind the work--the hard,
hard work? Ah, Jeanne, it is not pleasant sometimes, I know."
And this was true. For when many, many mothers and children came, Jeanne
had to walk back and forth, back and forth, through the room. She had to
show the silken dresses, the velvet coats, the little fluffy bonnets
and hats. And she always had to smile and answer people's questions to
the tune of that smile.
Then when changing behind the screen in Auntie's tiny dressing room, she
had to be careful with the clothes--very careful. If lace should tear or
a frock become soiled, Auntie would not be able to sell it. It was a
careful little girl who changed behind that screen.
[Illustration: SHE HAD TO BE CAREFUL WITH THE CLOTHES]
But Jeanne would always answer Auntie as she smiled into her worried
eyes, "No, no, dear Auntie Sue. Never am I sad. Never do I mind the
work. It is play, you know. All the other little children envy me!"
This also was true. Many children did think what fun it would be to wear
all those lovely clothes and step about that gay little shop.
Some even went home and tried to imitate Jeanne. They thought it was
fun. They did not know it was hard, hard work.
Jeanne answered Auntie Sue this way and really meant what she said.
Still Jeanne often wished for the days to be much longer. Jeanne wanted
to play.
It was all right for those other children to play at being Jeanne. But
really to be Jeanne was not play!
When those other children wearied of their game of being Jeanne they
stopped. Jeanne could never stop. And there was never any time left
for her to play.
Auntie Sue often noticed that Jeanne's eyes held a wistful look. Auntie
Sue mistook that wistfulness and thought Jeanne was longing to possess
the beautiful clothes she showed.
She thought that Jeanne was sad because, each day, she would have to
take off those lovely clothes and put on her own simple little dresses.
It was only natural for Auntie to suppose this because Jeanne loved and
caressed each new garment that Auntie made. She seemed always so happy
to put them on.
But here is a secret: Jeanne never once thought about those clothes
after she took them off. She liked her little gingham dresses just as
well.
In fact, Jeanne would not have cared one bit what she wore, if only she
could have played. Auntie Sue did not know that.