Molly and her mother laughed outright at the bumping bug comparison. It was very apt.
"Why, Cousin Sally, we could not think of spending the winter being coerced at every turn," returned Molly. "We were hardly in the house before Mrs. Pace actually took Mother's clothes off and put her to bed, and last night at dinner she refused to let me have any coffee. She said it would ruin my complexion!"
The marchioness roared with laughter. "How like old Henny that is! She always was a boss, but I don't blame you for objecting. I let her seem to boss me just for the fun of it. I have known her since first coming to Paris and understand how good she is at bottom, but wild horses could not drag me to spend a night in her house. I ask her to la Roche Craie every year and try to give her a rest, (she really works awfully hard,) but she is so busy there trying to change my housekeeper's methods and rearrange the linen presses that she gets very little rest after all. Jean cannot stand her, but my son Philippe sees the good in her that I have brought him up to see; and then he clings to any and everything American. I am anxious for you to know my husband and son and for them to meet you. Do you know French?"
"Mother speaks better French than I do in spite of my work at college," confessed Molly.
"Well, I studied French with the old time method more as we study Latin, and while my accent is vile, my verbs are all right. I am going to try to brace up in accent, and Molly and Judy are endeavoring to perfect themselves in grammar. But you have not met our friend Judy, Miss Julia Kean," said Mrs. Brown.
"No, I have not, but from all the complaints Henny Pace has made of her, I know she must be charming. When Henny gives a boarder a good character, I know without meeting her that she is some spineless old maid who is afraid to call her soul her own, or that she is a hypocrite like me who wants peace at any price. Now she tells me that Miss Kean is head-strong, self-willed, flippant, slangy, ill-bred, inconsiderate——"
"Oh, how could she tell such things?" interrupted Molly. "Why, Cousin Sally, Judy is splendid! She is independent and knows her own mind, and all of us are a little slangy, I am afraid; but she is very well-bred and Mother says the most considerate visitor she has ever had."
"Well, child, her report of your friend had no effect on me but to make me want to meet the young lady, so I can judge for myself. I want you and your mother to come and dine with us this evening at six-thirty and to bring Miss Kean with you. We will go to the opera to hear Louise. It is wonderful and I know you will like it," and la Marquise d'Ochtè smiled on her young Kentucky cousin and pressed her hand, pleased to see how she could speak up for her friend.
"We shall be delighted to come," said Mrs. Brown, "and I know Judy will appeal to you. She is a dear child and as free from affectation as you yourself. Now, Sally, tell me how we must go to work to find an apartment and where we should settle ourselves. We are far from affluent and want something inexpensive but, of course, respectable. Judy is to be with us; also a Miss Elise O'Brien, whose acquaintance we made on the steamer. You know so many persons, I wonder if you ever met her mother: she was a Miss Lizzie Peck, who married a young artist, George O'Brien, some twenty-five years ago here in Paris. At his death she married Mr. Huntington."
"Know Lizzie Peck? I should say I did,—the outrageous piece! You see, before Jean succeeded to the estate and before I had my windfall from Aunt Sarah Carmichael, we lived in a very small way and our principal society was in Bohemia. At that time Lizzie Peck was the beauty of the Latin Quarter. She was supposed to be studying art, and indeed she was quite clever. But she was such a belle and so busy drawing young men to her, that she did not give much time to any other drawing. George O'Brien was much too good for her in every way. He was one of the wittiest men I ever knew and good nature itself. It is to be hoped that the daughter Elise inherited a disposition from him and not from the flirtatious Lizzie. Jean always insisted that there was an understanding between Tom Kinsella and Lizzie, but I hardly think a man as keen as Tom could ever have been taken in by the likes of Lizzie," and the marchioness got up preparatory to making her departure.