“And think how Lady Jane loves you,” said Mrs. Lanier, as if to clinch the argument.
“Yes; my love for her and hers for me are the strongest points in the situation,” replied Mam’selle Diane reflectively; “when I think of that I can hardly refuse to comply with your wishes.”
At that time it seem as if Lady Jane acted the part of fairy godmother to those who had been her friends in her days of adversity; for each one had only to express a wish and it was gratified.
Pepsie’s cottage in the country was about to become a reality. In one of the charming shady lanes of Carrollton they found just such a bowery little spot as the girl wished for, with a fine strip of land for a garden. One day Mr. Chetwynd and Lady Jane went down to Good Children Street and gave the deed of it to Mademoiselle Madelon Modeste Ferri, which was Pepsie’s baptismal name, although she had never been called by it in all her life. The little cripple was so astonished and delighted that she could find no words of thanks; but after a few moments of very expressive silence she exclaimed: “After all, my cards were right, for they told me over and over that I should go to live in the country; and now I’m going, thanks to Lady Jane.”
When little Gex was asked what he most wished for in the world, he hesitated for a long time, and finally confessed that the desire of his life was to go back to Paris.
“Well, you shall go, Mr. Gex,” said Lady Jane confidently, “and I shall see you there, because I’m going to Paris with grandpapa very soon.”
It is needless to say that Gex went, and the little shop in Good Children Street saw him no more forever.
And Margaret—the good Margaret. What could Lady Jane do for her? Only the noble woman and the destitute orphans could testify to the generous aid that came yearly in the shape of a check for a large amount from Lady Jane for dear Mother Margaret’s home.
“And Mam’selle Diane,—dear Mam’selle! what can I give her?” asked Lady Jane eagerly.
“We have our plans for Mam’selle Diane, my dear,” said Mrs. Lanier. “There is only one thing to do for her, and that is to take her with you. Your grandpapa has begged her to take charge of your education. Poor, lonely woman; she loves you dearly, and in spite of her reluctance to leave her seclusion, I think she would go to the world’s end with you.”