Jeanne walked about the pretty little room, with its dainty show-cases and Parisian dolls and model coats and hats. She walked about the room and wore the clothes that Auntie Sue had made.
And when the children's mothers came to buy, they said, "Isn't that a beautiful little coat?" or, "Doesn't she look sweet in that little dress?"
Jeanne always looked sweet and pretty in everything she wore. Jeanne walked very straight and held her head high and smiled at all the people. She seemed to belong in those clothes.
So every mother thought that her child would look as well as Jeanne looked. Of course some of them did, but not all. Jeanne was known throughout Paris—throughout "child-and-mother-Paris"—as the "Little Model."
You may think that she became haughty and proud because so many people knew about her and came to watch her. But this was not the case at all.
Jeanne never thought of things like that. She was too busy ever to think of such things. While she loved to help Auntie Sue, it was hard work, and often Auntie Sue worried.
"Ma chérie," she would say to Jeanne as she stroked her silky brown curls, "you are happy; are you not? You do not mind the work—the hard, hard work? Ah, Jeanne, it is not pleasant sometimes, I know."
And this was true. For when many, many mothers and children came, Jeanne had to walk back and forth, back and forth, through the room. She had to show the silken dresses, the velvet coats, the little fluffy bonnets and hats. And she always had to smile and answer people's questions to the tune of that smile.