It was a long time before excited Jeanne was able to sleep, however. One by one she was recalling the new garments. She wished that she might have had the new shoes under her pillow for just that one night. Perhaps the only thing that saved the secret next day was the wonderful tale that she told the children, after she had led them to the farthest corner of the old wharf. "The beautiful princess," said she, "wore a lovely white thing called a chemise--the _prettiest_ thing there ever was. It was trimmed with lovely lace that had a blue ribbon run through it. There was a beautiful white petticoat over that and on top of _that_ a dress." "What for," asked Sammy, the inquisitive, "did she cover up her pretty chemise with all those things? Was she cold?" "Oh, no. Only _grand_. A chemise is to wear _under_." "I'm glad I'm not a princess," said Michael. "Botherin' all the time with blue ribbons. Didn't she wear no crown?" "_Any_ crown. No, she had just a little dark blue hat the very color of her dress, some brown gloves and oh! the _smoothest_ shoes. They fitted her feet just like skin and she had stockings--" "Aw, cut out her clothes," said Michael. "What did she _eat_?" School had started. Jeanne knew it because on her last trip to the library she had met a long procession of boys and girls hurrying homeward; chattering as only school children can chatter. But still Mr. Duval had said nothing to Jeannette about _going_ to school. The home lessons went on as usual, and the wondering pupil hoped fervently that she was not outgrowing that hidden wardrobe. _That_ would be too dreadful. The following Saturday evening, Mr. Duval shopped again. This time, he went alone; returning with more bundles. These, too, were concealed. The wharf afforded many a convenient hiding place under its old planks; and this time, even Jeanne failed to suspect that anything unusual had happened during the evening. There were never any lessons Saturday night; and this particular evening she had been glad of the extra time. She was finishing the extra dress she had started for Annie, the red and white striped calico. Mollie was in bed and asleep, Mrs. Shannon was dozing over the stove, Jeanne sat close to the lamp, pushing her needle through the stiff cloth. "There!" breathed Jeanne, thankfully. "The last button's on. Tomorrow I'll dress Annie up and take her to call on Old Captain. He'll like her because she'll look so much like the American flag." CHAPTER IX THE FLIGHT