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Even could he do so, the package which the latter had so carelessly slipped into his overcoat pocket in Monsieur Perrier's shop might contain, after all, but a harmless box of rice powder, and he would be hard put to explain satisfactorily his action.
"I suppose she hasn't a cent that she feels she can use for lessons," said Miss Burton thoughtfully. She, as well as Ruth's special chums, had become very much interested in Marie, and Mrs. Perrier's little house had been the goal of many a breezy walk. "I think Uncle Henry means to help her, of course," continued Ruth, "but I was wondering if there wasn't something we could do to earn money.
Bewildered and kicking like beetles when they are turned on their backs, helping themselves with their hips and their elbows, some fallen on one side and unable to regain their balance, others raising in the air their little benumbed, swaddled legs, spontaneously they cease their gesticulations and cries as they see the door open; but M. de la Perrier's nodding goatee beard reassures them, encourages them anew, and in the renewed tumult the explanation given by the director is only heard with difficulty: "Children kept separate Contagion Skin-diseases."
Betty's contribution was a dozen glasses of delicious-looking orange marmalade, and behind them were piled boxes of Mrs. Perrier's crisp Swiss wafers. As a joke Charlotte had brought in quite unexpectedly at the last moment a huge pan of baked apples, and she insisted on having them on the table in spite of the fact that the pan in its nest of pink crepe paper took up a large amount of space.
My driver clapped his hands together lightly, as though Monsieur Perrier's bubble needed very little pressure to disperse it. "Good heavens!" I exclaimed, "but what became of Oli of the young English lady, and the child?" "Ah, m'sieur!" he said, "I do not know. I do not live in Noireau, but I pass to and fro from Falaise in La Petite Vitesse. She has not returned in my omnibus, that is all I know.
Once or twice, during the fortnight, it was as though a breath of something infinitely icy and remote blew across their relation; nor was it till, some years afterward, she read Madame Perrier's life of her brother, Blaise Pascal, that she understood in some small degree what it had meant.
Those in the first part of the book were tiny drawings of the interior of Mrs. Perrier's house, with now and again that smiling woman herself in a characteristic pose. Once in a while there was a sketch in color of mountains, lake and sky done evidently from memory. All crude and faulty, but showing so much strength, so much individuality and color-sense, that Mr.
Perrier's, "It ees my angel of mercy come again. I am so glad, so glad." "I thought you might get tired of such an old angel, Marie," laughed Mrs. Hamilton, "so I've brought a younger one along with me. Come here, Ruth, and let me make you acquainted with my friend, Marie Borel, who has left her Swiss mountains, and has come to America to do great things."
"Why, yes, I do think it's a success, and won't it be fun when we can take the money over to Mrs. Perrier's and surprise Marie? Time's up, Mr. Harper," she added with cruel promptness, and Uncle Jerry, fearing the invasion of other applicants, didn't dare to disobey. Dorothy looked at him critically as he emerged from the tent.
Perrier's picture of "Jeanne d'Arc" is in a provincial museum; several pictures by her belonging to the city of Paris are scenes connected with the schools of the city "Breakfast at the Communal School"; "After School at Montmartre" were at the Salon des Artistes Français, 1903; others are "Manual Labor at the Maternal School," "Flowers," and "Recreation of the Children at the Maternal School."
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