She moved the lamp to a box beside the trunk, turned the key, and lifted the cover. Her father's best suit was there, very neatly folded, and his shoes. From under these came a gleam of something faintly pink. Jeanne carefully drew it forth.
Jeanne slipped it on. It was much too short.
"Why," said she, "what a lot I've grown!"
Upright in one corner of the trunk, Jeanne found a green bottle. It held a withered stalk to which two dried pink petals still clung.
"I left that bottle with a rose in it on father's table when I went away," said Jeanne. "He must have found it there when he got back and _kept_ it. And this dress. He didn't give it to Annie. He _kept it_. And I'm glad. Sometimes, when I was so awfully lonesome at Aunt Agatha's, I used to wonder if my father really _did_ love me. But now I _know_ he did--every single minute. I'll put this dress back where I found it."
Another thing that came to light was her father's bankbook. She showed that, the next day, to Old Captain, who studied it carefully.
"I'm glad," said Jeanne, "that there's a little money. It may be needed for Mollie."
It was. One day, early in October, Mollie failed to waken from one of her comfortable naps. Thanks to Léon Duval's modest savings, poor Mollie was decently buried. Mrs. Fairchild took Jeanne and Old Captain and all the flowers from Mrs. Schmidt's little greenhouse to the very simple funeral.
"I've got to be a mother to Mollie's children just as soon as ever I can," said Jeanne, on the way home. "I was going to do it for daddy, anyway; but now I want to for Mollie, too."
The following week, Jeanne and two of the kittens went to live with Mrs. Fairchild. The other two were to stay with Old Captain, who, it seemed, was fond of kittens. Jeanne was spared the necessity of dividing the snail. Bayard Taylor had run away! As snails aren't exactly built for running, Old Captain and Barney considered this a huge joke. Whether Bayard Taylor crawled over the edge of the dock and fell in, or whether one of the playful kittens batted him overboard, or whether he was hidden in some crevice among the cinders, nobody ever knew. Though diligently sought for, the great American traveler never turned up.
Mr. Fairchild warmly welcomed both Jeanne and the kittens and declared that he was delighted to have somebody to make the table come out even at meal times.