Only an angel had come to
Joseph, but Jesus Himself had counseled Cecile. Yes, she was now in
the faubourg--she must presently find the lady bearing the English
name.
The Faubourg St. G---- was undoubtedly a poor suburb, but just even
when Pericard's patience began to give way, the children saw a row of
houses taller and better than any they had hitherto come across. The
English lady must live there. Cecile again, with renewed hope and
confidence, walked down the street. At the sixth house she stopped,
and a cry of joy, of almost rapture, escaped her lips. Amid all the
countless foreign words and names stood a modest English one on a
neat door painted green. In the middle of a shining brass plate
appeared two very simple, very common words--_"Miss Smith."_
CHAPTER XII.
THE WINSEY FROCK.
Her voice almost trembling with suppressed excitement, Cecile turned
to her little brother.
"Maurice, Miss Smith lives here. She is an English lady. I must see
her. You will stay outside with Pericard, Maurice; and Toby will take
care of you. Don't go away. Just walk up and down. I shan't be long;
and, Maurice, you won't go away?"
"No" answered Maurice, "I won't run away. I will eat some of that
nice breakfast without waiting for you, Cecile; for I am hungry, but
I won't run away."
Then Maurice took Pericard's hand. Toby wagged his tail knowingly,
and Cecile ran up the steps of Miss Smith's house. A young girl, with
the round fresh face of old England, answered her modest summons.
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