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Gabriella set out on her own one day, braving the odd looks of passerby to visit the man at the bank. As she walked in the door, the gentleman there smiled and greeted her with a kindly "bon jour". She smiled at him and walked to the back, where she requested to see the man who had helped her a few weeks ago. There was a frown from the man there who had politely denied her access on her first visit.

"Germaine? He passed away a few days ago. He was very old you know. Didn't look his age, but I was told he was the longest surviving partner in the bank. He has a nephew that works here presently, if you wish to talk with him."

"Yes please. I never got to know the other man very well or to thank him for his service."

She was escorted to a small, but richly appointed office, where a much younger looking man sat working on a ledger. He didn't look up even after the first man coughed a little into his fist and spoke.

"Sir, this lady would like to speak with you. Your uncle helped her a little while ago, and she was unaware of his passing."

His manner was rather brusque.

"Fine. It's not like I'm busy at the moment."

Gabriella was left standing there wondering what she should do. Remembering who she was, she marched in and sat down.

The man spoke to the other without looking up from his work.

"Go. I will handle this matter as I see fit."

The door was quietly pulled shut, and only then did the man look up. She looked into his face and twisted up her own.

"Explain..."

"I am old. I had to die, but I couldn't really, until you came along. Now I am dead, and I am my own nephew. It has been a ploy I have been developing for more than a few years now."

"How do you look so much younger when you looked so old before?"

"You have your tricks, and I have mine. I believe there will be time enough to discuss it. Have you made a decision on where to live?"

"Sorry," she said with actual contriteness. "I was thrown off by the report of your death and forgot my reason for coming here."

She shook her head to clear it. "I believe that I would like to live with you for a while. The hotel is nice, but I find the people coming and going to be distracting, and I am sure they feel the same about me. I do not wish to remain holed up in that room for any longer than necessary, but I know not where else I might go."

"A good choice. I have more than enough room for you and your friend. That is; I assume you are still together."

"We are. He is agreeable enough, and he is coming along nicely. I keep feeling that he wants to bolt when he in fact he doesn't, and he dotes on me in a way I find almost annoying. But his bearing is beginning to relax, and I think I can see an agreeable future with him."

"Then he is lucky indeed. Few mortals will have association with those who are not. And yes, before you say anything, long life does not equate immortality. Part of the reason is that when they die, and you do not, people will notice. There are many ways around this challenge, such as having one die not long after the other. One might say that this happened with you, only I know of only a few cases where the interment was so lengthy."

"I guess my head needed sufficient time to percolate."

"So I gathered. Understand that you are welcome in my home immediately, and for as long as you feel the need to remain there. The world has changed drastically over the past few centuries, and it would do you well to familiarize yourself with the alterations in its fabric. It would also grant you the time to fully acclimate to your new surroundings."

"I think I have the general feel for life now. Different, and yet much the same. Much like putting on rouge; what lies underneath remains the same. Only the outward appearances change. I have found people have altered very little, for all the advances that have been made."

"True. We are by our nature creatures of habit, even the likes of you and I."

"Yes, about you. When will I have some answers about who you are?"

"When you move in, I promise at some point I will tell you. The difficulty is that who I am underneath all of the lies and tales is what will be the most important to you. But there are many layers, so I will have to determine whether to bother with them all, or even at all."

"I understand. I too would have had to let go of who I was eventually. Funny thing is, I can be me because so much time separates then and now."

"That way has been paved for you, but please don't overuse it. There are those out there; like us but not, who seek to undo those things the lady sees fit to do. She allows this. Why, I do not know."

"I would like to think she is unbalanced, and yet I know she is not. Her mind is marvelously complex, and I only have a portion of what she had to offer. I went a little crazy and she stopped, which might very well have made matters worse."

"You seem able to function fine now."

"Yes. As I said, a few hundred years to sort it out was all I needed."

"Then may the rest of your days be above the ground, and if you wish it, above the clouds."

She smiled sweetly.

"Or under your roof. I think that will do nicely for now."

The address she was given was unfamiliar to her, but Jean knew just where to go. They traveled in something called an automobile, of which there were any number to be found in the city. This one was referred to as a taxi, a term she didn't understand, but the concept was familiar. It apparently ran under its own power, from some sort of liquid that burned. She was going to have to solidly investigate the strange contraption, but she found the ride to be most enjoyable.

The house was less elaborate than she imagined, with this gentleman seemingly well connected to large sums of money and all. But it was the correct house, for when they arrived, he was there at the door to greet them.

"Come in, come in! Welcome!"

They were ushered inside, where the interior was lightly appointed, though not in the grand scale that the hotel had been. There was nothing ostentatious about the décor, but rather more utile, with every object she could see having a definite purpose.

And thankfully, she saw no sign of silver anywhere. It was as if this man didn't like showing off who he was, or the money he most likely had to his name. Gabriella was uncertain what to make of that. Nor was the place as big as she thought it might be, for the neighborhood was rather recent, and the houses more modest in scale when compared to many of the older, more ostentatious residences that dotted the city.

He showed them immediately to the rooms he had reserved for them, and she was amazed at how the bedroom was appointed. But her eyes went directly to a painting above the fireplace. Her entire body froze in place.

"Explain."

Jean looked at it, then to her.

"That's you!"

The man replied calmly.

"Yes it is. I think I need not tell you about it, for you were there when it was done. I believe you know the artist."

"Simon Vouet. I recall him vividly. So you knew...that I was going to be found? And thus, you put yourself in charge of finding my belongings?"

"Nothing that complex. The lady had a few of your things in her possession, which then came over to me. When the few mortals I allow in here ask me, I always tell them that is a portrait of my grandmother. I just don't tell them who painted it."

"I see. Might I now ask you who you are?"

"It would seem to be the time, though I think you have an idea. I will give you a little background for context. I have gone by many names and titles over my life, mostly because like having anonymity, throwing out a variety of names and titles lends confusion to who you are, and thus people are left constantly guessing as to your real identity. You will not know me, and that is understandable, but perhaps your friend here has heard the old tales of the Count of St Germain?"

"I have," replied Jean with a look of astonishment, "but I never believed them. You claim to be him?'

"I do, for I am. I had no desire to live in the shadows my entire life. Back then, when I was young like you, I wanted to see the world. Mother told me to be careful, as she knew that there was something different about me, just like there had been with her mother. She happened to be normal, which I found curious. I was most definitely not."

Gabriella was still staring at the painting. She spoke without looking away. Her voice was tense, touched with an edge of anger.

"I know nothing about you, as you say. I am also no fool. Your mother was Henriette."

"You are most astute."

She turned to him.

"I named my daughter after my sister. My daughter was a normal child, insofar as I was able to tell. You will have to tell me about her in the future."

Jean was lost in this conversation.

"I'm sorry, but what is going on?"

She looked at him with a trace of annoyance, mixed with a little sorrow.

"I missed out on many things Jean Baptiste. One of them was watching my daughter grow up to be a woman. This man, who calls himself Germaine, is my grandson."

There was an awkward silence.

"That is not possible. He is, well, was wrinkled and gray while you are young. He looks younger now...I just don't understand any of this."

Germaine laughed.

"I am older than her as far as living goes, for my existence has been active while her's has been on hold. Yes grandmother, you have guessed correctly. I was put in charge of waiting for the time when you would be released. And if you ask me why I didn't do it myself, then I will tell you. I was not privy to where you were buried. I was only told to keep your account safe, which has been difficult during this present time of war, not to mention all the turmoil of the past. But I have persevered in this and now you are here."

"Yes I am. I would like to boldly proclaim the flaws in this design, but outside of the obvious ones, I cannot find many. You seem to have done your duty well."

"Oh, I was on my own very many years until I too had to die. I have done it a few more times up until the most recent one. As the count, I told lies galore, and at the same time astounded everyone with my ability to adopt multiple languages and my knowledge of science and politics. The languages come easily to me, for I can pull the simpler thoughts from another's mind. I also write music, among other pastimes, though I haven't published in years. Now that I have accomplished the task set to me, I think I may go back to dabbling. Banking is rather boring."

Jean looked at him, and then to Gabriella.

"You look nothing alike!"

Germaine nodded.

"Indeed we do not. My father...well, I do not think that is a conversation for the likes of you. You already know too much, but I feel that any more from my lips would be considered an impropriety."

Gabriella narrowed her gaze and looked in his face.

"Are you the only one sired?"

"As a matter of fact, no. I have...or had a brother, who remained in England, but may have left for the one they now call America. I lost touch with him a long time ago. I assumed that he died, or was killed. Unlike me, he was much more secretive."

"I see. There is much for me to think on. I may desire to be alone for a while. A long while."

He smiled kindly.

"I too am used to being alone. However, Noel is in a few weeks, and I did hope to have a nice dinner with you both as my esteemed company. Can I at least expect you for that?"

"We will see. I will not be so rude as to openly dismiss your hospitality, but this present turn of events will require me to assess what it means for me now that I stand upon the soil instead of residing under it. I do not wish to appear aloof, but while my head was filled with many things, family was always in the forefront. Why didn't you tell me immediately?"

"The lady said to give you time to grow accustomed to your new surroundings, so that is what I did."

"I suppose that was very wise of her. You will excuse me if I lack my proper social etiquette for a few days. This information is causing me internal turmoil, and I will be less than pleasant, I fear, until it subsides."

Without another word she left the room.

It took them a few minutes to realize she left the house altogether.