M. d'Orly was the nephew of old M. d'Aubecourt, and had been an intimate friend of his son's, whom at his death, he had entreated to take care of his daughter. M. d'Aubecourt had several times mentioned the matter in his letters to his father, but the latter had remained silent on the subject, from which the son had concluded that he was ignorant of the fate of the child. Such, however, was not the case, for the nurse having discovered, the year before, that he was Adelaide's grand-uncle, had come to see him. M. d'Aubecourt, who feared everything that might put him out of his way, or lead to expense, had tried to persuade himself that she had made a false statement, and that Adelaide was really dead, as had been rumoured. Mademoiselle Raymond, who did not like children, confirmed him in this opinion, which possibly she believed to be well founded, for we are always tempted to believe what we desire to be true. The nurse having met with an indifferent reception, and, besides, not caring to have Adelaide, whom she loved as her own child, taken from her, did not insist further, and the child, therefore, remained with her.
As soon as Madame d'Aubecourt had received this intelligence, she communicated it to her father-in-law, at the same time informing him of her intention of going to see Adelaide. M. d'Aubecourt appeared embarrassed, and Mademoiselle Raymond, who happened to be in the room, assured her that the roads were very bad, and that she would never be able to get there. Madame d'Aubecourt saw plainly that they were already in possession of the information which she had supposed herself the first to communicate, and she also perceived that her project was not very agreeable to M. d'Aubecourt; nevertheless, however great might be her desire to oblige him, she did not consider herself justified in renouncing her intention. Her extreme gentleness of disposition, did not prevent her from possessing great firmness in everything that she considered a duty. She set out then, one morning, with Lucie, who was enchanted at making acquaintance with her cousin, and with Alphonse, who was delighted at having to travel four leagues on foot.
As they approached the village, they asked each other what kind of person their cousin was likely to be, brought up as she was among the peasantry.
"Perhaps something like that," said Alphonse, pointing to a young girl, who, in company with two or three little boys, ran out to see them pass. There was a pool of water by the side of the road where they were walking, and the children, in order to see them closer, ran into it, splashing them all over. Alphonse wanted to throw stones at them, but his mother prevented him.
"It would be a good joke," said he, "if it turned out to be my cousin, at whom I was going to throw stones."
Lucie exclaimed against such an idea, and one of the little boys having called the girl Marie, she was comforted by thinking that it was not her cousin Adelaide d'Orly, whom she had seen dabbling about with a troop of little idle urchins.
On reaching the cottage, in which Adelaide's nurse lived, they found her laid up with an illness resulting from debility, and from which she had suffered for six months. Madame d'Aubecourt having given her name, the poor woman recognised her, and said she was thankful to see her before she died, and that finding herself unable to go out, it had been her intention to ask the mayor to write to M. d'Aubecourt, "for," said she, "my child" (it was thus she always called Adelaide) "will have no one to look to when I am gone." She had lost her second husband; and had no children of her own, and she did not doubt that her brother-in-law would come and take possession of everything, and turn her child out of doors, who would not then have even bread to eat, for she had nothing to leave her; and the poor woman began to weep. She added, that she had been to see M. d'Aubecourt, who would not listen to her, and she went on to complain of the cruelty of Adelaide's relations, who thus left her a burden upon a poor woman like her. Madame d'Aubecourt interrupted her to inquire whether she had any documents. The nurse showed her an attestation from the mayor and twelve of the principal inhabitants of the parish which she had left, certifying that the child whom she took with her, was truly the daughter of M. d'Orly, and baptized under the name of Marie Adelaide, and also another from the mayor of the parish in which she was now residing, certifying that the girl living with her under the name of Marie, was the same that she brought with her into the parish, and whose age and description corresponded exactly with those of Marie Adelaide d'Orly.
"Marie," exclaimed Lucie, when she heard this name.
"Yes, indeed," said the nurse, "the Holy Virgin is her true patron; she has saved her in a dangerous illness: this is her only name in the village."
Lucie and her brother looked at each other, and Alphonse began to laugh, amused at the idea of having been on the point of throwing stones at his cousin. At this moment Marie made her appearance, singing in a loud voice, and carrying a faggot, which she had gathered. She threw it down as she entered, and was somewhat astonished on seeing with her nurse the very ladies whom she had splashed, and the young gentleman who was going to throw stones at her.