Part 16 (1/2)

The Orderly called a cab and a.s.sisted Jeanne into it, putting her satchel and basket beside her. Then springing in he gave the order and they were off.

Past Lafayette Square with its city hall, churches and Odd Fellows Hall which were grouped round it with fine effect they went, and on into that portion of the city that was known as the Faubourg Marigny whose residences were built with more architectural generosity, broader s.p.a.ces, longer vistas, ampler gardens and with more sacrifices to the picturesque than the part of the city through which they had just pa.s.sed.

At last the cab turned into the courtyard of a ma.s.sive brick building.

It was a true Spanish building with broad doorways and windows, the roof of which was a solid terrace surrounded by a stone bal.u.s.trade. The establishment had all the privacy of isolation and seclusion and was a charming spot. The gardens were very large and s.p.a.cious, and fragrant with the blossoms from the magnolia groves. The avenue to the house was shaded with orange trees that later would be redolent with perfume and beautiful beyond description. Fruit trees were everywhere. Pomegranate, peach, banana, fig, pear interspersed with rose trees and jasmine whose odors ravished the senses.

The cab swept in an extensive circle round the courtyard to the carriage step before the broad doorway. A tall gentleman, elegantly appareled, stood leaning in an easy att.i.tude against one of the pillars of the broad piazza smoking a cigar. He advanced to meet the arrivals as the Orderly threw open the door of the cab and handed out the girl.

”General Butler presents his compliments to Mr. and Madame Vance,” he said, with a deep bow, ”and begs to introduce to them their niece, Miss Vance of New York.”

”My niece!” exclaimed the gentleman giving Jeanne a look of astonishment.

”I have none unless my brother has a daughter. Are you d.i.c.k's child?”

”Yes,” replied Jeanne, her heart beating quickly. ”You are Uncle Ben, aren't you?” with a trace of wistfulness in her voice.

”I am Benjamin Vance at least,” was the answer. ”Come in. I don't know your name, but you are welcome if you are d.i.c.k's daughter.”

”I am Richard Vance's daughter,” replied Jeanne with some dignity.

”Then you are certainly my niece, though what in the world you are doing here is more than I can see. d.i.c.k is well, is he? But come in. You shall tell me all about it later.”

He kissed her lightly on the forehead, and without a glance or word for the Orderly drew her up the brick stairs and through the hall, whose stairway was beautiful enough for a palace with its elaborate, fantastic, hand-wrought iron railing, and on to the door of a salon. A beautiful woman swept graciously forward to meet them. She was very dark with brilliant black eyes and silky hair of raven hue. Her manner was easy, graceful and rather impa.s.sioned, and her features showed unmistakably her French descent.

”Clarisse,” said the gentleman, ”this is my niece who has honored us with a visit. I think that I have told you of my brother, Richard. She is his daughter and is from New York City.”

”Mais!” exclaimed the lady, with a laugh and speaking with a decidedly French accent. ”You surprise me! I knew not that you had a niece. Why did you not tell me? It is one bad husband you are not to tell me of the dear demoiselle. You are welcome, child. She resembles you, mon ami,” taking Jeanne's face between her hands and giving her a long look. ”We shall be great friends, my dear. Is it not so?”

”Yes;” Jeanne's lips quivered and her eyes filled suddenly with tears at this unexpected greeting. Her mission had ended so differently from the way she had antic.i.p.ated;--the doubt of her loyalty and the knowledge that her uncle was a rebel had filled her heart with misgivings so that this welcome was almost more than she could bear. But as this gleam of suns.h.i.+ne comforted her, she steeled herself against its influence and drew herself up bravely.

”I must tell you something,” she said, ”before you welcome me too warmly.

I am for the Union.”

She did not dare to look at them as she spoke. Her thought was that they must know her principles before going further. She was homesick and longing for love and tenderness, but not for one moment would she receive them under false pretenses. A glance flashed from husband to wife and then a clear, silvery laugh rang out as the lady caught her to her.

”You dear little Yankee! you are too ridiculous for anything! Did you think we would turn you out because you were not a rebel? Well, we are rebels, my dear, but as we have to stand that odious, uncouth General Butler of yours I think we won't mind a little thing like you. Come now, and I will take you to your room and you shall rest. Then you shall tell us why you have come all this way to see us at such a time.”

Jeanne returned her caresses with fervor, and abandoned herself to the delight of being fondled and petted again as only children can do who have been deprived of endearments after being accustomed to them.

”They are nice people,” she whispered as the lady left her in a cool quiet room. ”I wonder if it is wrong to like them? But it is father's brother, and I ought to love them. Oh, I do wish they were not rebels! How can they be traitors when they are so good!”

After she had rested her uncle's wife came for her.

”You are not weary now, are you?” she asked in her soft, caressing voice.

”You looked so fatigued, child. Tell me, what is your name?”

”Jeanne.”

”Jeanne? Oh, you darling! That is French, isn't it? I did not know that the Americans ever named their children so. Jeanne! It is delightful.”