Part 12

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 Renee's birth. Renee 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 Renee's mother on her twentieth birthday, six months before her marriage. They had not been touched. Penelope exclaimed:

"A small fortune! And they are Renee's!"

Many thoughts were shaping in poor Renee'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 would _not_ have 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, Renee felt torn and unhappy. And she looked almost scornfully at the packet which Aunt Pen held up as though precious--how _could_ just 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 Renee.

"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'll _stay_--I'd rather!" and Renee 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, I _know_ how 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 Renee, 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 Renee 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, _whatever_ it 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 Renee rush away in the midst of all their fun fixing their costumes! She had helped Renee and Renee 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 Renee 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's _just_ like a fairy story!" Pat had cried.

"Dear Renee! It will mean a home of her own for the child! I will get the box at once."

Pat was startled--a home of Renee's own! She had felt that they might coax the soldier-guardian to leave Renee 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 if _I_ hadn't found Renee 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 had _such_ exciting things happen to them! Sheila had had the lost formulas. And now Renee 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 Renee, when they realized that she was never, never going to write any more stories, would feel _very_ sorry!

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 Renee, 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, the _bestest, grandest_ surprise you ever, _ever_ knew!" 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 you _crazy_?" whispered Aunt Pen back. "Aren't you going to let us in?"

"Of course!" answered Pat with importance. "You may walk in and go at _once_ into the library! But you must shut your eyes _tight_ and 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 Renee'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 Renee'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 was _not_ a dream but _true_!

Pat was so happy for Renee 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 Renee 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 Renee.

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 Renee 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 Renee 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 Renee!

"What _have_ you 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!"

Renee, 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, Renee, 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 Renee 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 Renee 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 Renee.

"Well, it looks as though _I_ was 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 Renee'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 Renee whispered together for a long time. Pat must hear just how Renee felt the moment she knew the cross old lady was her _very own_ grandmother!

"I don't believe she'll be cross when she's happy," confided Renee. "She laughed and it sounded real jolly! And even Elsbeth looked different after that."

And wasn't it _wonderful_ to have a brother come back?

"I don't mind his losing his arm," Renee whispered, "for I love him so much I want to do things for him and now he'll have to let me!"

Long after Renee 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. Renee, alone in the world, had been very close to her. She had seemed to feel that, because she had found Renee, Renee belonged to her--was something even closer than a friend or a sister! And now Renee 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 Renee's bed, shook her violently.

"Ren! Ren!" and her voice rang tragically. "Promise me, on your scout's honor, that you'll _always_ love me more'n--everybody--except Emile!"

Renee 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 XXIII*

*THE BEST OF ALL*

To Pat it seemed as though everything exciting was happening at once! For the next morning's mail brought a letter from Mother saying that she and Celia would start north in a day or two.

Pat and Renee had wakened very early. The first thought in each mind was to know if it was all true--that Emile had come back--or was it a dream?

Outside of their window a friendly robin was trilling a gay song as though the joy of the spring-time was bursting his proud little throat. Through the window the sun shone with added brightness and warmth and delicious earthy smells greeted the girls.

"Oh, isn't it just _grand_ to be alive? Let's dress fast and be the first ones down!" And Pat, because the sun and the birds and the spring freshness made her very happy, also burst into a gay snatch of song. Aunt Pen and Capt. Allan were late for breakfast. When the others had almost finished they came in from a brisk walk through the park, with red cheeks and amazing appetites.

Aunt Pen, dropping into the chair next to Pat, slipped a roll of paper into her hand and whispered:

"There's something that belongs to you, Patsy! I'm ashamed that I didn't return it before. But now you can write the last verse!"

Pat, immensely curious, peeped at the paper. It was the lost ballad! And what _did_ Aunt Pen mean about the last verse? Both Aunt Pen and Capt. Allan were looking at her with eyes full of laughter. Pat felt her color creeping to her eyebrows and crushed the innocent verses in her hand. But Aunt Pen checked her rising indignation.

"Patsy, dear, I found 'The Secret Sorrow' on the floor of the library one night after we had had a pow-wow. I recognized the heroine--by a guilty conscience, I guess--my hair is not exactly 'of raven hue' or my eyes 'pellucid blue'! But I loved it, my dear, and I tucked it away, for I couldn't bear to have you write the sad ending that was coming! _What_ if you had made her thrust a steel dagger into her breast! Or have had her leap from one of those mighty crags over which the knight, her brother hunted!"

Capt. Allan had been furiously scribbling some words on the back of an envelope. Now he looked up, very seriously.

"Will you forgive Aunt Pen if I write the last verse for you?" he asked, and then, not waiting for an answer, read with dramatic emphasis:

"Back came the lover, wise and bold, To snatch his lady, grown cross and old, To a mountain cave he'll carry his prey, And there they'll be happy for ever and aye!"

Everyone laughed at Pat's disgust.

"_I_ think that's very silly and Aunt Pen _isn't_ cross and old a bit and----" she stopped suddenly. "Do you mean that's _true_?" she demanded.

It was Aunt Pen now who grew very red. But she nodded and turned toward her brother.

"_We_ have a surprise! A long time ago Will and I were engaged--my last year in college! Then we let foolish things come between us and we have lost a good many years of happiness, but----"

"Now we're going to make up for it!" put in Capt. Allan. "And I won't be lonely in that place in the mountains, after all!"

"Oh, Aunt Pen, I'm so glad!" and Pat threw two strong young arms around Penelope's neck. Everyone talked at once. Renee, looking at Emile and then at the other happy faces about her, thought that all the joy in the world must have crowded there within the four walls of the sunny dining-room!

"It'll be just as though we were really related," she put in, shyly. "For I'll always feel that Capt. Allan _is_ my guardian and Emile belongs to me and Pat belongs to Aunt Pen!"

"Don't leave _me_ out, Mouse!"

"Oh, no!" and Renee's contrition was tragic. "For you are the very best man in the world and belong to all of us!"

Pat, who had been performing a sort of ceremonial dance among them all, stopped in dismay.

"Oh, Aunt Pen, _what_ about school?"

"Then you will be sorry to lose your teacher, Patsy? But it is almost the first of May and with a little home study you girls can get along. Anyway, mother will be here to decide what is best."

Pat's face was serious.

"I am glad mother's coming home! And Celia, too! But I _have_ loved our school, Aunt Pen! You've made me just like to study all sorts of things! When mother comes I'm going to tease her to let us go next fall to the Lincoln school with Peggy and Sheila and the other girls--and then go to college."

Aunt Pen nodded toward Pat's father. Pat, of course, didn't know that she was trying to say: "There--_that's_ a real girl talking--who wants to be of some service, some day, in this world!"

Then Pat insisted that Capt. Allan tell them more about the old house in the Adirondacks.

"Somehow, I can't imagine him keeping you up there very long, Penelope," laughed her brother. "He doesn't know you as well as I do!"

Capt. Allan described to them the old rambling house built half way up the wooded slope of Cobble Mountain. From its many windows, he remembered, a wonderful view could be had of a sweep of valley, river and surrounding slopes.

"Will has promised me that I may go on with all my experiments and fads just the same! There'll be lots of room there!" she retorted to her brother. "And some day I shall turn Cobble House into a school for girls."

"Like _our_ school, Aunt Pen?"

"Yes, and I hope that all my girls there will work as faithfully as you have, Pat!"

"And I'll be the man-of-all-work around the place and chief executioner, when you need one!" declared Capt. Allan, mischievously.

Mr. Everett shook hands gravely with his sister.

"All I say is success to you--my dear, whatever you try to do!"

There seemed to be so much to talk about that no one wanted to break up the little circle. However, the hands of the old clock over the fireplace were climbing rapidly toward noon and Renee was eager to take Emile to the grandmother's. Pat begged to go, too. As they started away, Renee holding tightly to Emile's hand, Aunt Pen, watching the boy, wiped a suspicion of a tear from her eye.

Capt. Allan saw it and answered the thought that was in her mind.

"He's a brave boy and has a strong will--he'll learn to do his work with his one arm! But before anything else he must stay in the open until he has built up his strength and wiped from his mind forever the horror of all he has gone through!"

The old stone house did not look at all ugly and gloomy in the bright morning sunshine! And for Renee and Emile it took on a new interest--it was to be their home! There were signs of life, too, about the place. The windows had been opened and from the back of the house came sounds of vigorous beating. As they walked slowly up the brick path Renee suddenly darted in among the wild honeysuckle growing close on either side of the door.

"Emile--_see_! A daffodil!"

There it was--lifting its bright head through the tangle of undergrowth as though it knew that sunshine and happiness had come to the neglected home! And there were more, too, and Renee, hunting eagerly, found hundreds of tiny blades of bright green grass and beyond a rose vine climbing toward the old stone wall.

"Oh, it _is_ going to be nice!" she cried to Emile. "We can have a garden like Susette's."

Emile, with the soul of an artist, was already mentally transforming the entire house and garden. It would be very pleasant to do nothing for awhile but work out among the growing things with Renee! Mrs. Forrester, eager to see again her "little flower," had roused Elsbeth very early in the morning that she might be in readiness. She had insisted upon putting on her old black silk dress; she had folded a soft net fichu around her neck and had fastened it with a lavender ribbon.

"Now _don't_ stand and stare at me like that silly," she had rebuked the old servant. "Can't you understand that I'm not sick any more? Watch me!" and holding her head very high she walked slowly across the room out into the hall.

So it was in the living room they found her. God had given back to her so much that she was not even startled when Renee very simply told of Emile's coming. She could not speak a word as she reached up her arms to embrace the boy, for he looked so much like his mother that it brought a choking sob to her throat.

And if in Emile's heart there had lingered any hardness toward the grandmother it disappeared when he saw her! She looked so little and fragile, sitting in the big walnut chair, that it roused all the chivalry in the boy's soul. He kissed her tenderly on each wrinkled cheek.