ready for the next morning, she told me why Barberin had gone to Paris.
"Your family is looking for you," she said, almost in a whisper. "That's what Barberin has gone up to Paris about. He's looking for you."
"My family," I exclaimed. "Oh, have I a family of my own? Speak, tell all, Mother Barberin, dear Mother Barberin!"
Then I got frightened. I did not believe that my family was looking for me. Barberin was trying to find me so that he could sell me again. I would not be sold! I told my fears to Mother Barberin, but she said no, my family was looking for me. Then she told me that a gentleman came to the house who spoke with a foreign accent, and he asked Barberin what had become of the little baby that he had found many years ago in Paris. Barberin asked him what business that was of his. This answer was just like Barberin would give.
"You know from the bakehouse one can hear everything that is said in the kitchen," said Mother Barberin, "and when I knew that they were talking about you, I naturally listened. I got nearer and then I trod on a twig of wood that broke."
"'Oh, we're not alone,' said the gentleman to Barberin.
"'Yes, we are; that's only my wife,' he replied. The gentleman then said it was very warm in the kitchen and that they could talk better outside. They went out and it was three hours later when Barberin came back alone. I tried to make him
