Margot waited while Jeanne ran to Auntie's room. Jeanne had not seen Auntie since the afternoon before, when she had so mysteriously disappeared in her room after her fainting spell. Jeanne found Auntie a pale and worried Auntie this morning. "Oh, Auntie dear," cried Jeanne, throwing her arms about Suzanne's neck, "you are not well." Suzanne assured the child that she was quite well, and so she was. The only trouble was with the little man who is nothing but a voice and is called Conscience. He had been talking to her all night and keeping her awake. When Jeanne told what Madame Villard's grandchild wanted, it seemed that Suzanne flinched at the name. But she smiled and answered, "Yes, dear. Tell her you will go. It will be so nice for you. And to-day is Sunday. There is no work." Jeanne was only a child, and she longed to go with her new little friend. She longed to ride in the big motor and to play. But she hesitated just for a minute. "You are sure you will not need me, dear Auntie?" she asked. "Run along and tell the little girl you are coming," laughed Auntie Sue. When Jeanne closed the door behind her, Suzanne Moreau's smile faded. She held her throbbing head in her two hands. How she longed to tell some one of her sufferings! If only she dared confide her story to the Major! But she valued that honorable gentleman's friendship so much that she feared to lose it by admitting what she now felt to be her terrible crime. Conscience was making her think that--Conscience, together with the face in the locket! And now Jeanne was going out with little Margot--her own cousin! Margot would take her in a beautiful car. Margot would wear beautiful clothes. They would play with beautiful toys. Ah, poor little Jeanne! It was hard for Suzanne, with these thoughts, to keep a smiling face until Jeanne had left with Margot. CHAPTER XIV A DRIVE THROUGH PARIS Through Paris in a fine motor car! How often Jeanne had seen these same sights! But now how splendid it all seemed to the little girl, as she sat beside Margot, with Pierrot firmly clasped in her hand! For Pierrot had been invited, too. I doubt whether Margot would have welcomed Jeanne as heartily without Pierrot. Pierrot was half of the performance. They rode through Paris. They passed the Place de la Concorde (pläs dĕ lä kôn-kôrd´), that most beautiful of city squares, where a sight not so beautiful once stood. It was here that the guillotine had stood. It is the terrible instrument which beheaded so many people in those frightful, stormy days of old. [Illustration: THEY PASSED THE PLACE DE LA CONCORDE] The square was then called Place de la Revolution (pläs dĕ lä rĕv-ō-lū´-syōn). But now the name, "Place de la Concorde," means "Place of Peace." They crossed bridges. There are thirty-two bridges in Paris. Some of these are very beautiful. Curiously, the oldest of these, a bridge begun in 1578, is called Pont Neuf (pôn nûf), which means "New Bridge."