"'Well, when I got home, you can imagine my man Pierre's surprise to see me back so soon. When he learned what had happened, he was as pleased as I was. Bless me! a hundred and fifty francs in advance, and twenty francs for the journey that cost just seven francs ten sous! That was a windfall! I looked at the address they'd given me; but as I don't know how to read very well, I couldn't make it out, it was written so small. Pierre could read even less than I could; so I showed it to the schoolmaster. It said:
"'"Madame la Baronne de Mortagne, at her hôtel, Rue de Grenelle, Faubourg Saint-Germain."
"'"The deuce!" I says to myself; "it seems that I've been in Faubourg Saint-Germain!"
"'Well, there was the child in our family, and he grew like a mushroom. Two months passed by, and I didn't hear anything from his mother.
"'"She doesn't have time to come," I says to myself; "I must let her know how her boy's coming on."
"'I had monsieur the schoolmaster write a letter, and I put it in the post, but I didn't get a word in reply. My man and I agreed that the lady knew her child was well, and that was enough for her; apparently she didn't have time to come to see him.
"'Two months more passed, and I sent another letter—no answer any more than to the first. Then I says to myself: "There's a mother that don't show much affection for her son! but when the five months are almost gone, she'll have to let us hear from her when she sends me my money. Perhaps she'll come and bring it with her; yes, that's probably what she's waiting for."
"'But the fifth month passed and no one came, and she didn't send any money. I had a third letter written, in which I asked for money. I didn't get any answer any more than to the other two, and it began to look queer to us. But about that time I lost my poor husband, and then, a month after, I lost my son! All the misfortunes fell on me at once, and I forgot all about little Emile's mother.
"'At last, when my grief began to get calmed down a little, I says to myself: "That lady must be sick, that I don't hear from her. I think I'll go to her house in Paris with her son; it's eight months now that I've had him; she owes me for three months and I need the money; besides she'll see that her son's in good health."
"'I got the schoolmaster to read me the address again; then I put it in my pocket and started. When I got to Paris, I inquired the way to Rue de Grenelle, Faubourg Saint-Germain; someone showed me the way and I found the street. It was a fine, broad street, not at all like the one I went to before, when they took me to my foster-child's mother. But I remembered being told that we went in at the rear of the house, and I says to myself: "This must be the front this time, for sure."