"They knew that you were living at the time of your mother's death. I want them to _see_ you. If they like you, it will be a very good thing for you. It is, I think, the _only_ way that I can give you what your mother would have wanted you to have; the right surroundings, the proper friends, education, accomplishments. You are nearly twelve and you have had _nothing_. If anything were to happen to me, I should want you with your mother's people rather than with Mollie. This--visit will--help you, I think." "Shall I like my grandfather? And my uncle? I've never had any of _those_, you know." "I hope so." "But not as well as you, Daddy, not _half_ as well--" "We won't talk about it any more just now, if you please. See that load of ripe tomatoes--a big wagon heaped to the top. We don't have such splendid fruit in our cold climate. See, there is a farm. Perhaps they came from there. Such big barns and comfortable houses." "Daddy," said Jeanne, "what does a lady do when her stocking keeps coming down and coming down? This morning I broke the rope--" "The rope!" exclaimed astonished Mr. Duval. Jeanne hitched up her skirt to display the remaining wisp of rope. "Like that," she said. "My poor Jeannette," groaned Léon Duval, "it is certainly time that you were with your mother's people. You need a gentlewoman's care." "But, Daddy. You said we'd be on this train all day, and it's only nine now. My stocking drops all the way down. Haven't you a bit of fish-twine anywhere about you?" "Not an inch," lamented Mr. Duval. "But perhaps the porter might have a shoestring." "Shoestring? Yass, suh," said the porter. "Put it in your shoe foh you, suh?" "No, thank you," replied Mr. Duval, gravely; but Jeannette giggled. "Daddy, if you'll spread your newspaper out a good deal, I think I can fix it. There! That's ever so much better." They spent the night in a hotel; Jeanne in a small, but _very_ clean room--the very cleanest room she had _ever_ seen. She examined and counted the bed-covers with much interest, and admired the white counterpane. But she liked the outside of her snowy bed better than the inside, after she had crawled in between the clammy sheets. "I wish," shivered Jeanne, "that Annie and Sammy were here with me--or even Patsy, if he _does_ wiggle. It's so smooth and cold. I don't believe I like smooth, cold places." Poor little Cinder from the Cinder Pond! She was to find other smooth, cold places; and to learn that there were smooth, cold persons even harder to endure than chilly beds. CHAPTER X THE ARRIVAL In the morning Jeanne dressed again in her new clothes. Then the travelers had breakfast. By this time, you may be sure, Jeanne was very grateful for her father's past instructions in table manners. They had proved particularly useful in the dining-car, where Mr. Duval had added a few more lessons to fit napkins, finger-bowls, and lamb chops.