by Nell Speed
CHAPTER VII.
THE FAUBOURG.
At the toot of the horn, the porte cochere of the Hotel d'Ochte wasthrown open by a venerable porter and the taxi containing Mrs. Brown andthe girls swept into the court in great style. How beautiful it was! Thesoft color of the stone walls blended with the formal box bushes andtubs of oleanders; here and there a wrought-iron lantern projected fromthe pilasters; rows of snub-nosed caryatides held up little balconies,also of wrought iron, of the most delicate design and workmanship. Judyheld her breath at the effect of line and color and wondered if shewould ever know the inmates well enough to be allowed to make a pictureof the court.
They were met in the hall by the most gracious and least formal ofhostesses and taken immediately to her boudoir to remove their wraps.
"And this is Miss Julia Kean, the friend of my cousin, as the easylessons in French put it. I am afraid I shall just have to call youJudy, my dear, and not start out trying to 'miss' you. And Molly in myown blue! Ah, child, for the first time in my life I tremble for theaffections of my Jean! There is something about the combination of thatparticular blue with red hair that goes to his head. Milly, you arebeautiful! How proud I am of my kin!" And the marchioness chattered on,leading them down a long, dim hall, hung with tapestries and armor, tothe library.
"We live in our library. It is so much cosier than the great salon andwe feel more at home in the smaller room; and here we can talk withouthaving to shout across space."
The door was opened at their approach by Philippe who bowed low as theyentered and stood aside, while they were introduced to his father, theMarquis d'Ochte.
The marquis was a very interesting-looking man, tall for a Frenchman,with merry brown eyes and a black, closely cut, pointed beard. His hairwas iron gray, thick and rather bushy. His manner was very cordial andall of the ladies were secretly relieved to find that he spoke Englishfluently, if with an accent.
Philippe was a handsomer man than his father, having that rarecombination of coloring: dark eyes and golden hair. He wore a pointedbeard, too, as is the almost invariable custom of Frenchmen; his eye wasas merry as his father's and he had inherited his mother's strong chin,big honest mouth and perfect teeth. The d'Ochte family certainly made awonderfully fine looking trio. The marchioness was radiant in blackvelvet and diamonds, her neck and arms beautiful and white, her abundanthair parted in the middle and done in a loose knot on her neck. She wasa very distinguished looking woman and worthy to take her place withroyalty as well as with the nobility. Years had touched her but lightly;but the eternal youth in her heart, as in that of Mrs. Brown, was whatgave her the charm of expression and manner.
Cordial relations were established immediately between old and young.
"There is nothing like a good American handshake to make strangersacquainted," said the host, looking admiringly at his wife's cousins andtheir attractive companion, Judy, who in spite of Mrs. Pace's fears thatshe might get herself up in "paint rags," was most artistically gownedin old-rose messaline. "It is more pleasure than I can express to meetthe cousins of my Sara; also Mademoiselle Kean, of whom we have heardmuch from the respected Madame Pace," he added with a mischievoustwinkle.
"Heavens, how must I behave if Mrs. Pace has already given me acharacter?" exclaimed Judy. "Must I be as she says I am, or must I be asshe wants me to be?"
"Be yourself, and you will be as we want you," said the marchioness,kindly. "Jean and Philippe do not have the chance to meet many Americangirls and they do not, as a rule, care to meet Henny's boarders, who areusually dry-as-dust old maids, especially the ones Henny recommends."
"Oh, please don't change yourselves, any of you," begged Philippe in avoice and accent so southern that it was amusing coming from a veritableFrenchman. "All my life, I have longed to meet some of my cousins and tohear more of the Kentucky stories, and of Chatsworth and the Carmichaelplace. Does Cousin Sarah Carmichael, Mrs. Clay, I believe she is now,still take the biggest piece of cake, and are the beech trees asbeautiful as they were when my mother used to play under them with you,Cousin Mildred?"
"Oh, Philippe, you should not tell tales out of school! Sarah is Milly'ssister and she might not like the cake reminiscences. Sarah was mightygrabby, though, wasn't she, Milly? I am afraid she will never forgive mefor getting the legacy from Aunt Sarah Carmichael. You see we were bothnamed for her and Sarah naturally expected an equal division if not the'biggest piece of cake,' and when the whole fifty thousand came to me,it was a sad blow to Sarah. But she was quite comfortable and Jean and Iwere the needy members of the family, as far as money went. That was allwe did need as we had everything else," and the marchioness laid herhand lightly on her husband's bushy hair whence he gently drew it downto his cheek.
Mrs. Brown could not help smiling over Sister Clay and the big piece ofcake. She remembered how the two Sarahs had always been at daggersdrawn. Her sister was much older than Sally Bolling and had always beencritical of the lively girl who had repaid her by laughing at her andcracking jokes at her expense.
"Yes indeed, Philippe, the beeches are even more beautiful having hadsome years since then to grow. Trees are one of the things that improvewith age. I hope you will come to Kentucky and make us a long visit andsee all of your kin and their homes," said Mrs. Brown cordially.
"That would be fine, if the mother and father could come, too. You don'tknow how beautiful your southern tongue sounds to me, Cousin Mildred.You say 'kin' just as my mother does and as I do. I am laughed at by myEnglish friends for my way of speaking their language, but I would notgive up my southern accent for worlds."
Dinner was announced, interrupting Philippe, and they made their way tothe _salle a manger_. The marquis gave his arm to Mrs. Brown; Judy fellto the share of the handsome young son; and the marchioness put her armaffectionately around Molly's waist.
"My dear," she said, "having you with us is a pleasure, indeed. I wish Ihad a daughter just like you. I think your mother might spare you to me.She has two other daughters and four sons. That is too much for anywoman."
"You had better not say that to mother," laughed Molly. "The only time Iever saw her lose her temper with Aunt Clay, who would try the patienceof a saint, was when Aunt Clay intimated that it would be much moreeconomical if there had been only half of us, three children and a halfinstead of seven. I was a tiny little girl, but I can remember how Icrawled under the table I was so scared. I had never seen mother getreally mad before and she turned on Aunt Clay in such a rage that I feltsorry for her. You know it must have been pretty bad if I felt sorry forAunt Clay, for she is the one person in the world I can't like."
"Molly, we are alike in more ways than one! She is an abomination untome! Sarah Clay made my childhood unhappy. You see, I had no regular homeas my mother and I were very poor. We spent much of our time visitingand Cousin George Carmichael, your grandfather, was goodness itself tous. The Carmichael place was more like home than any other to me. Isimply loved it and spent many happy hours playing with your dearmother; but Sarah never lost a chance to rub it in on me that I was in ameasure a dependent. As a child it would cut me to the quick; but as Igot older and made my visits at Cousin George's, I would retaliate bymaking game of my older cousin; and no one can abide being made fun of.I tell you I gave her tit for tat and usually came out ahead. But wemust stop this whispering. Your mother can't stand any criticism of hersister. Some day we can get together and say all the mean things we've amind to about old Sarah!" Then the marchioness was transformed in thetwinkling of an eye from the naughty Sally Boiling to the gracioushostess, seeing that her guests were seated and leading the conversationinto the most agreeable channels.
The dinner was perfect, every detail in absolute taste, servedbeautifully but with an elegant simplicity. Molly made mental notes onthe sauce with the fish, trying to find out without asking what was init; and then the gravy with the filet of beef occupied her attention.Such a wonderful gravy with a character all its own. She remembered whatEdwin Green had told her o
f the Frenchman who was visiting America. Whenasked his impressions of the country, he had said: "America is a countrywith a thousand different religions and one sauce." She wondered whatMiss Morse would think of this gravy, and smiled as she recalled thelecture on gravies delivered by that highly educated teacher of domesticscience and the smooth, perfect specimen she demonstrated, with no moreflavor than Miss Morse herself.
"What is the little joke my Cousin Mollee is having all to herself,"asked the marquis.
Molly frankly confessed what had made her smile, since her cousin wantedto know, and of course in her confession praise of the gravy had to beincluded.
"Brava, brava," and the Marquis d'Ochte clapped his hands. "She is likemy Sara in all ways. She is also a discriminator in foods. This gravy,my dear Mademoiselle, is the _chef d'oeuvre_ of my chef. You noticethe butler, Jules, has left the room. _Pourquoi_ does he go? He cannotwait to tell Gaston, the chef, that Madame's cousin from across the seashas been so gracious as to praise his work of art. If you will turn everso little you will see the happy face of Gaston peeping in to view thebeautiful young lady."
Molly turned, and sure enough, tip-toeing to see over the shoulder ofJules the butler, was Gaston, his face radiant.
"Molly is a wonderful cook herself," said Judy. "She has an instinct forfood that is truly remarkable. At college an invitation to a Molly Brownspread was looked upon with greater reverence than being asked to havetea with the President. But has she not learned from Aunt Mary, thatdear old colored woman who cooks like an angel? We trembled for fearthat the domestic science teacher would ruin Molly's touch and make hertoo academic, but I hope it hasn't."
"Dear Aunt Mary, I had almost forgotten her!" exclaimed the marchioness."Don't tell me you can make Aunt Mary's spoon corn bread, Molly! If youcan, I'll make the Bents move out of their studio to-morrow so you canmove in. And I'll come to live with you and get you to make me some forevery meal until all the cornmeal to be purchased at the Americangrocers' is used up!"
"Indeed she can, Sally, and many things besides. Aunt Mary has initiatedher into all the secrets of her trade," said Mrs. Brown. "I remember sowell hearing the old woman say to Molly, when she was a little girl, 'Efyou wan' ter know how ter make bread, you have ter begin at debeginnin'. Now yeast is de fust an' maindest thing and tater yeast isthe onliest kin' fit ter use, an' you can't git taters 'thout diggin''em; so fer the fust step, s'pose you go an' dig some taters.' So, yousee, my Molly can do it all."
"Oh, how I love to hear about Aunt Mary!" sighed Philippe. "Am I to havesome of this ambrosial bread, too, Cousin Molly?"
"Yes, indeed, but I am afraid the meal we get in Paris will not beright. Tell us, Cousin Sally, about the studio in the Rue Brea. Can weget it? We have had so many things to talk about, we have not asked youabout it."
"The Bents expect to go to Italy for six months and are very muchpleased to have good tenants in their absence. I am going to take youand your mother and Miss Kean, if she can come, to see the placeto-morrow morning. The rent is reasonable, ridiculously cheap even, onehundred and twenty-five francs a month."
Mrs. Brown's face fell at the rental named by her cousin. Themarchioness saw it and gave a merry laugh. "I know just what you aredoing, Milly; you are thinking in dollars. I said a hundred andtwenty-five _francs_; that is only twenty-five dollars."
"Oh, how silly I am! I did think you meant dollars. Of course, that ischeap and well within our means. We are so grateful to you, Sally, and Iam sure it will suit," said Mrs. Brown, blushing at her mistake, whichshe need not have done as it is no easy matter to think in foreignmoney.
The dinner went gaily on. Molly and Judy told Philippe all aboutWellington College, and he in turn had much to tell them of Nancy, wherehe had been studying forestry after his course at the Sorbonne. Themarquis and marchioness had many questions to ask Mrs. Brown of therelatives in Kentucky. The talk was interesting and delightful and theyfelt as though they had known one another always.
They lingered over their coffee and cheese until the butler announcedthat the limousine was at the door ready to take them to the Opera.There was a general move for wraps and gloves, but Philippe stopped hismother long enough to embrace her and whisper in her ear: "Both of themare jewels and I can't tell which one is the more precious"; and Mollyand Judy, unconscious of their being rivals, hugged each other in CousinSally's boudoir and said in chorus: "What an Adonis!"
