A VAIN QUEST
“So I packed what few belongings I had and took the money which I had managed to save from my father’s so meager allowance,” the low voice continued; “and when night came and all was still in the house, I stole quietly away and turned my back upon what was the only refuge I have ever known.
“I will not dwell upon the days and weeks that followed. Suffice it to say that they were very, very hard, and I was dangerously near giving up all hope, when, one day, I chanced to come across an old, old man, full three score ten he must have been, perhaps more, who seemed to know something of the people I sought. When I had described them to the best of my ability, he nodded sagely and directed me up a side road near by. Three miles of steady travel would bring Monsieur to the chateau where lived the old caretaker and his wife. Aye, he remembered the old gentleman, who was now dead, and the little, fairy-like creature, his ward, whom all had loved.
“I thanked him with great warmth, for he had brought a little spark of hope to a heart that before had lain heavy as lead.
“Wearily I trudged along till I was rewarded by the vision of a small chateau, almost surrounded by dense woodland. My unruly heart throbbed violently at the thought that in these very woods my sweet Jeanette had played when a child and earned the name throughout the countryside of the fairy child, whom every one loved. My heart yearned toward the little home which I was convinced must shelter my love, and, weary as I was, in my 94 impatience I began to run, covering the remaining distance with feet as light as air and a heart that sang with dawning hope and joy.
“As I neared the door of my heart’s desire, it opened and out stepped a plump, middle-aged little person, looking very trim and neat in her spotless white attire.
“To her I appealed. ‘Madame,’ said I, ‘will you be so kind as to allow me the privilege of a few words of conversation? You have it in your power either to raise me to the heights of joy or to sink me in the very depths of despair.’
“She gazed upon me as she would upon a madman, and perhaps, after all, it was not so strange that she should do so, I being footsore and weary and all covered with the stains and dust of travel—or perhaps it was merely my so strange form of address which startled her. However, she retreated several steps toward the house and stood with her hand clasping the latch, as though making ready to fly should I attempt any violence.
“‘May I ask sir,’ she said, with great primness, not unmixed with fear, ‘who comes so early in the morning with so strange, so unusual, requests?’
“‘Aye, Madame,’ said I, with most reassuring manner, ‘if you will but allow me, I will soon make all clear. Give me but a hearing,’ I cried, frantically, as I saw she was about to retire.