Hey guys! I FINALLY forced myself to write this final companion piece. To be honest, I've had all but the two parts written for quite some time, but I wasn't ready to finish it :(

HOWEVER, quarantine has forced me to spend a lot of time writing, and I decided that after almost two years since "His Troublesome Peculiarity", I should finish the series.

Enough rambling!

Without further ado...

HIS GENTLE BIRD

As was the case with the other two children, he watched his newborn babe as she slept peacefully in her bassinet. She was a delicate angel, and he could see so much of his Christine in the girl. His eyes shifted over to his wife, on whom he could still see the exhaustion from labor present on her sleeping face.

The birth had not been easy due to Christine being an older mother and their daughter wanting to make an early appearance. He had been out of his wits when Christine had lost consciousness during the labor, and he had almost lost them both. Thankfully, both midwife and doctor were extremely skilled in their field and were able to save Christine and the girl.

His youngest child had graced this Earth for ten days, but he could already see her differences from those of her siblings. She rarely cried and did not always have to be in her parents' arms. However, that did not mean it was unusual for Adalie to be seen in his arms. He of course loved his children all equally, no matter how abnormal the older two were, but he found that he needed to keep his little girl close in order to remind himself that she was in perfect health, just as her mother was.

The girl's eyelids fluttered opened, and a pale finger traced her plump cheek. "Good evening, Adalie," he whispered as he carefully picked up his child, supporting her neck and letting her backside rest against his scarred forearms as he held her slightly out in front of him. Her blue eyes looked lazily back at him. "You are a very good girl, you know that? You hardly make a peep, always just lounging about. Most times, your Mama and I must wake you for your meals, which is so very different from your siblings because they would always tell us exactly when they wanted something. I think your Mama and I were given an easy go-around this last time with you as a sort of remuneration of having to deal with your sister and brother." The little girl grunted, and Erik smirked. "I am glad you agree. You are learning very well for only being ten days old, my dear. We'll make a genius out of you yet." The girl blinked, and he chuckled.

"What plans are you concocting with our daughter, Monsieur?" his wife's playful voice questioned him, and he looked over to his now awake Christine.

"Don't fret, wife, just some ramblings from an old man."

She shook her head with a smile on her face. "You do not ramble," she replied, crossing her arms over her chest.

His good eyebrow rose. "Yet you are not denying that I am old?" he countered with mock hurt.

"Oh I did not? I meant to say you are, and have always been, an old soul," she jested.

Erik rolled his eyes as he moved himself and the babe beside his wife on their bed. "Good save," he muttered dryly as he adjusted the girl in his arms.

Christine gave him her mellifluous giggle as she rested her cheek on his shoulder, the couple gazing down at their lovely daughter. "She is so precious," she whispered, reaching a finger up to stroke one of the baby's eyebrows. Adalie's eyes closed and her mouth opened in contentment, soft sighs escaping the girl's tiny mouth.

He hummed his agreement, his heart swelling with pride. "All three of our children are. I thank you every day for them, Christine."

Her brown eyes flicked to his golden orbs, and a soft smile graced her face. "As I've said many times throughout the years, I could not have it without you." She squeezed his bicep lovingly, and he leaned down to bestow a kiss on his wife's plump lips.

However, it did not last long as Adalie let out a quick cry, one of her very few, to let them know she was not pleased with the cessation of her Mama's caress. The parents chuckled as they broke apart, and Erik placed a kiss on his daughter's smooth forehead. "Papa loves you, my sweet girl."

Adalie behaved as what he had originally expected for little girls, yet she was also different. She was so very gentle and well-mannered, content to play with her dolls and sing for her Papa, but she was enraptured by her studies. Erik was proud to say that he had given his children (and his two granddaughters) a vast education that spanned over many subjects. His three children were fluent in French, Swedish, and English as well as being able to understand Italian (they needed to at least partially understand the words of some of the greatest operas). Adalie, at only eleven years old, had begged for more languages so they were currently studying Spanish, and when they were finished, he would see if she was ready for Arabic. The dear Daroga had passed when she was a young tot, but Erik knew what little she remembered of him had been the fantastical stories he had told her of his homeland in his native tongue before translating them to her in French.

However, where Adalie excelled was in anatomical studies. She was enraptured with the various body parts, their different functions, and how they all connected together.

There had once been a time where Estelle's elder daughter, Elissa, who was five years Adalie's junior, had injured her ankle during her self-imposed dance practice. He and Christine had been...attending to personal matters while Adalie and her nieces had been in the music room.

After their matters had been seen to, he had walked back into his music room to see a splint on Elissa's ankle, Clara (Estelle's younger daughter) looking between the two older girls in wonderment, and Adalie had been wiping away the tears on Elissa's face.

"What happened?" he asked, looking at his first grandchild and his last child.

"Elissa sprained her ankle while attempting a grand jeté. It does not look broken, just some swelling around the bone. She needs to rest it for at least a week," Adalie explained in her soft, calming voice. She patted her niece's hand after her tears had ceased. "You must keep it elevated when possible and repeatedly ice it throughout the day. Understand?" Elissa nodded shakily, and Adalie gave her a warm smile.

Erik had watched this interaction take place with proud astonishment. His little girl was such a genius, but instead of the cold displacement he himself had displayed with those around him, she kept her compassionate, soothing mannerism that had been her trademark since she was a babe.

His little bird was going to soar far one day, and he hoped he had the chance to be able to see her do so.

It was terribly hard watching her grow up.

All parents say that about their children, but this time was especially hard. Adalie was his youngest, the babe of the family. She was a beautiful woman at the ripe age of nineteen. She was the replica of his Christine, but she represented the best parts of both her parents. He was proud to see her grow up into the caring young woman, but he wanted her to be three years old again and telling him that she would never leave her Papa.

Estelle had been right in saying that he was going to regret his encouragement of little Adalie's promise to him.

She was leaving him and Christine. She was actually moving out and creating her own life.

However, she was not leaving him for a spouse, like the other two children had. His little bird was joining The War to End All Wars as a nurse.

The day she had informed them of the choice was one he would never forget. She had been spending much time at the house of one of Erik's clients, where they had been led to believe that she was being courted by the man's son. In actuality, Adalie had been gaining information on the War from him, and he had finally informed her that they were looking for women nurses. Adalie had explained this all to him and Christine before stating that she was joining and her training would soon start.

Christine had released a cry of horror and had swiftly fled from the room. Erik himself had been dumbfounded because he prided himself on his intuition, but he could not have predicted his gentle bird, the one who cried when he had cooked a turkey he had shot down in the woods behind their estate, would willingly sign herself up to go headfirst into the front line of danger.

However, as he saw the tears pooling in her brown eyes that so resembled her mother's, he could understand. She loved helping people, and she had the upmost compassion (it was no doubt she had inherited it from her mother).

"Papa, please. This is what I want to do with my life. I-I wish to make a difference, and this is the only way how. Please understand," she had beseeched him, her petite hands grasping his skeletal hands so fervently.

He had smiled at her then, a soft, melancholic thing, the bittersweetness prevalent on his ugly face. "I do understand, my dear," he answered, patting her hands. She had sighed, but he could still see tension in her stance. "I do not like it, but I understand. You know I have never been able to deny you anything, my sweet bird, which is why..." he pushed a curly tendril of her chocolate brown mane that had escaped from her braid behind her ear and allowed his hand to cup her smooth face, "I will talk to your Mama."

She released a sob of relief as she flew forward and wrapped her arms around his neck, effectively squeezing all oxygen out of his decrepit body. "Oh Papa, thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!" she had cried into his ear. And while he could not breathe and he was deathly afraid for his daughter's fate, he had embraced her just as tightly.

He had found Christine in their girl's bedroom, clutching at the blanket she had made for their daughter in the final weeks of her pregnancy. Adalie had carried the piece of cloth with her everywhere until she was about six years old, where she then kept it underneath her pillow to hold each night. His wife, usually so strong, crumpled once more as she saw him enter. He had flocked to her side, immediately comforting her as she cried into her chest. A few tears might have escaped him as well, but he was too focused on his Christine.

After she had calmed down, Erik, in soothing tones, had explained to her why they must allow their daughter to go on this journey. She was a smart girl. She knew how to handle herself because Erik's lessons had not just been based on school subjects, but life subjects as well. She would thrive in this war, saving many of the heroes that otherwise would die if she were to stay home with them forever.

Christine had relented, and now, they were sending their daughter off to her training.

They were currently standing in the main foyer of their home as their whole family had come to issue their goodbyes. Adalie was currently in her sister's tight embrace with Louis' hand resting on her shoulder as the three conversed in soft whispers. Christine, with their youngest grandson in her arms, was chatting with Gustave and his wife, Eula, who was indeed an American from the heart of Georgia. He had expected to be annoyed by the girl, but the Southern hospitality that was widely known had charmed even him.

It also helped that she had a lovely singing voice.

He stood slightly away from his family as he watched Estelle's daughters entertain their two cousins. His family was a beautiful one as they had all blessedly inherited the beauty his wife exuded. He was the odd one out. Of course, he still wore a silk mask when he was around his children's spouses because pride had made him. Christine and his children weren't happy about it, but he would not subject his children-in-law to his terribly ugly face. Years with Christine still could not fully block out the stigma he had faced.

"You look very deep in thought. Any philosophical wanderings you've figured out?" his girl's sweet voice interrupted his thoughts, and he looked down at Christine's replica. The mischievous glint he had seen so many times in her mother's eyes was currently present in Adalie's as a soft smile played on her lips.

He sniffed. She may have been his calmest child, but she was still susceptible to bouts of cheek.

"The usual musings, my dear. Those of which you would not be able to handle."

She rolled her eyes with her ever-present grin. "If that is what you wish to think, Papa. Now. why are you not with the family? I would've assumed that Auguste would be in your arms all night," she told him. His golden eyes glanced back to the newest addition of his family in Christine's arm, the boy just half a year old.

"You know your Mama. She trampled over me, stepping on my new shoes of all things, as soon as Eula waltzed in with the boy," he grumbled.

She let out a rich laugh. "Oh, Papa, I will surely miss your dramatics," she giggled.

He stiffened. Yes, she was leaving him. He had almost been able to forget the reason his entire family was here; that they simply had been here to partake in one of Christine's lovely meals. He peered down at his girl and felt a lump start to form in his throat. "My theatrical flair is indeed one of a kind," he muttered, crossing his arms like a petulant child.

The girl, ever the perceptive one, picked up on his increasing melancholy as she frowned. "Papa, please do not cry. If you cry, I will cry. If I cry, Mama will cry. Then Estelle and Eula will follow, causing the little ones to start as well, which would lead to absolute chaos. So you mustn't cry, okay?"

His girl, ever the smart one.

He nodded and leaned down, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead, before offering his arm. She slid her petite arm into his, and he patted the hand resting on his biceps. "Come along, my child. The car awaits you," he said, escorting her over to the family. Christine, having surrendered their grandson back to his parents, launched herself at her daughter. Adalie laughed as Erik untangled himself from that mess of an embrace. He opened the door to see the taxi he had called was waiting in his drive out front.

"Okay, Mama, I'm going to miss you lots, but I really need to get going to make my train," Adalie insisted, gently peeling her mother's arms off her.

Christine sniffled and nodded, wiping away the tears that had escaped. "I know, sweetie, I'm just not ready for my baby to leave me."

Adalie gave her the beautiful, gentle smile that showed all the love and compassion she felt for her family. "I love you, Mama, and I promise you I will be back as soon as I can." She squeezed her mother's hand before turning to her nieces and nephew. "Alright, come give your Aunt Ada a hug so you can all go cause mischief elsewhere." Estelle's daughters and Gustave's older son and daughter swarmed their aunt with a tight hug. After releasing the children and pressing a kiss to her youngest nephew's forehead, she turned back to Erik, who had been once again silently watching his family interact. Louis and Gustave carried her two suitcases to the automobile while Erik escorted his Christine on one arm and his Adalie on another. Christine burrowed into his side as the parents watched their children say goodbye. Their two older children and their spouses then stood off to the side to allow Erik and Christine one final farewell before Adalie had to leave.

Christine took the girl's identical face to her own into her palms and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "You will do great things, mon cœur. I know it, just come back in one piece to us," she whispered, hugging the girl tightly.

"Thank you, Mama," she replied before Christine released her, and Adalie turned to gaze up at her father. "Papa?"

"I love you, mon doux oiseau," he stated simply.

She grinned at him. "And I love you. Now! I must get going, or I will most assuredly miss my train. As I've said, I will be back as soon as possible. Estelle, break a leg on your last season before retirement, but not in actuality as that would not be an ideal way to finish a wonderful career. Louis, don't let her schmooze too much money out of you during your gambling games. We all know she is terrible at poker. Gustave, for the love of God, please visit Mama and Papa more. I know the trek from New York City to Paris is terribly long, but transportation is improving every moment we speak! Eula, darling, keep Gustave in check because as refined as he sees himself to be, that mischievous side of him is just begging to come out. However, don't impede him too much as some of the pranks are ingenious, and creativity is a key subject to teach your children. Mama, allow yourself to relax more. All my life, you've seemed to be in a constant state of 'go, go, go.' Papa, I want to hear the scores you've been working on when I come back, lyrics and all. I know it will be perfect for my voice, just like every other composition you've made for me." The words fell rapidly from her mouth, and a sheepish smile graced her face. "Just had to get it off my chest," she blew out a breath of air.

Erik knew why she let the jumble of words be rambled to her family, but he refused to acknowledge what she thought could possibly happen to her.

"Okay, I really must be going." With that, he wordlessly opened the door of the cab for her as she gave everyone last kiss goodbye. She turned back to him and softly squeezed his bicep. "Goodbye, Papa, I'll see you soon," she whispered before grabbing the skirt of her dress and elegantly sliding into the car.

"Farewell, my dear, do not forget to write your family. We shall worry about you," he stated, his voice remarkably clear. She nodded, and he stepped back, slowly closing the door. The driver, obviously annoyed by the long goodbye, immediately put the car into motion, and Christine burrowed herself once more into his chest, where he then held her tightly. Erik watched as his little bird flew from the nest and towards bigger things.

The years caught up to him much faster than they had the first half of his life. He remembered how they would drag on for what seemed like eternity, but ever since he and Christine married and had their children, there never seemed to be enough time. He loathed to admit it at risk of sounding like a cliché father, but it felt like it was just yesterday when all his children were babies and under his always watchful eye and protection. Now, he and Christine were all alone in their large home, which usually was not so bad as he still adored his goddess of a wife, but still, he had become rather accustomed to the laughter, the yells, and the tricks of his children. Estelle and her family visited often as their house was very close to her parents. Gustave visited as much as he could, but he was in very popular demand in New York

He now was dependent on a cane. He absolutely refused for a long while, but after a black piece of ice had bested him, he relented for Christine's sake so she would not worry so much.

He looked over at his lovely wife, the years kind to her gentle grace and beauty. Her curls that were wrapped tightly in a chignon were more gray than brown now, and the few wrinkles she had were laugh lines around her eyes and on her forehead. He watched as she put in the pair of sapphire earrings he had gifted her for their thirty-fifth wedding anniversary two years earlier. "I can feel you looking at me," she announced, catching his gaze in her vanity mirror.

"I like looking at beautiful things."

She smirked and turned to face him. "Flattery will get you everywhere, Monsieur." She winked before her expression turned somber. "I can't believe our baby girl is getting married. It feels just like yesterday that we found out about our surprise baby," she said in a nostalgic tone, her hand drifting over her womb.

Adalie returned to her family two years after she left, but she had not come home alone. Adalie had tended to an injured English soldier on the outskirts of Amiens. The man's name was Walter Northcott, and according to the letters she had sent to her parents, he was extremely charming with an uncanny wit that reminded her of another man in her life. She had informed her parents that he had endured serious burns on his face and all over his body during his time serving the British forces.

Of course, this would not bother her family, but she had written that she wanted to warn them so they wouldn't be surprised when he came home with her.

Walter, or Walt as he preferred, was intoxicatingly charming that Christine swooned over him the minute he opened his mouth. Erik had been miffed because he knew that she would no longer let him intimidate Walter as he saw was his right of passage.

Erik had found, however, that he need not enact cruel threats on the boy because he saw the look he sent to his little bird, as it was the very same look he gave his wife. The worship and utter devotion he held for Adalie was admirable, and Erik could not deny that his little girl would be well-taken care of.

Not as well-cared for if she stayed at home with him, but if she had to go, then he would allow Walter to take care of her.

Erik had connected with Walter in another way. Behind the jokes, the laughter, he could see the broken, haunted look in his eyes, the way he purposefully positioned his head, so the right side of his face was hidden from whomever he was speaking to. Walt's burns were prominent around his cheek and above his eyebrow, and Erik could feel the boy's insecurity, no matter how hard he tried to hide.

But then his girl would press a kiss to his cheek, and both of their eyes would light up with delight and adoration for one another.

That is why, when the two of them came to him nervously the second night of their return and asked for his blessing, he had given it to them without a moment's hesitation, no matter how much it hurt his heart to do it.

Now, he was sitting in his and his wife's room, preparing for the big day. The wedding was to be held in Christine's gardens of their estate because it "was simply the most beautiful place in the entire world!", as Adalie exclaimed to them many times. Christine obviously had swelled with pride and gave her daughter rapt consent to use the gardens.

Erik was not naïve to think that his child did not have another reason for having the wedding at their home. He was so very ancient, and they both knew that he most likely would not survive the travel to London to marry there.

He grumbled. Damned aging.

A knock came to the door before his eldest daughter poked her head in, her black hair pulled back into an elegant updo. "Mama, Papa, we are ready for you if you are ready for us," she announced playfully, a smile brightening her beautiful face.

Christine spritzed one last ounce of perfume on herself before turning towards her daughter. "Yes, dear, I do believe we are ready." She turned to Erik and looked at him expectantly. He sighed dramatically before slowly easing himself off the bed, using the cane to support his weight. When he managed to get to his feet, he offered his arm to Christine, and they followed Estelle silently to the sitting room, which had been converted to Adalie's dressing room. Estelle knocked gently, and the three heard Adalie's soft "come in."

The door opened, and he was terribly frightened by the massive drop of his heart to his stomach. His gentle bird was a replica of Christine, even more so since she was wearing Christine's wedding dress. Erik remembered designing the second dress for Christine, as they both refused for her to wear the first dress he had made for her due to the memories that tainted it. If anyone would have told him that his youngest daughter would be wearing that dress, he would have directed them to the nearest asylum, yet, here they were. Adalie, with both Christine and his permission, had gotten some slight alterations to it to make it fit better with the current period, but the Victorian aspect was still there.

"Oh, baby, you look so, so beautiful," his wife whispered as she crossed the room to their daughter. Adalie hugged her mother for a few moments before turning to her Papa.

Erik swallowed hard. "Are we ready?" he asked.

Adalie smiled her bright, stunning grin. "I don't know, Papa. I am, but are you?"

He chuckled and brought a hand up to her brown curls. "You are supposed to be the child who does not sass me." She laughed, and he shook his head. "But to answer the question, I am not ready, nor will I ever be, but that shan't stop you."

She gave him a soft smile. "No, it won't," she agreed, grabbing his hand and holding it tightly, before pausing for a few moments. "I am scared, you know," she whispered, her brown eyes locked on his bony fingers.

"Of what, my dear? Tell your Papa, and he will see that the issue is dealt with swiftly and accordingly."

Adalie let out a breathy laugh. "I'm afraid you can't help this, no matter how much you want to." Erik arches a gray brow and urged her to continue. Tears welled up in her big eyes. "I'm scared because I don't know how much longer I'll get to spend with you, and I want you to be here for my children and help me raise them and give me advice and see me get older like you got to with Gustave and Estelle, but you won't, and that terrifies me so much because I can't imagine life without you, and I don't know when my time with you will end," she rapidly blubbered out, her tears softly dribbling down her cheeks.

His heart hurt as she voiced his exact fears, and he glanced over to the door where Christine and Estelle were both watching, tears in both of their eyes as well. His sweet wife gave him a shaky nod of reassurance, and he took another hard swallow before looking at his youngest daughter. He rested a hand on her shoulder. "We never know how much we will be given on this Earth. I have been here for about seventy years. Most people born when I was have not last this long, dear. Could I die tomorrow? Yes. Could it be another ten years before I pass? Perhaps. We have no way of knowing, and spending what precious time we do have left together worrying about when we'll die is a waste. When the time comes, it comes; there's nothing to prevent it. That's just how life works, my gentle bird." He stroked her cheeks with the pads of his thumbs to wipe away her tears. "But I promise you I will do all I can to stay here because I want to do all the things I did for your siblings for you." Adalie nodded her head before moving deep into her Papa's embrace.

Later, when he watched as Adalie become Mrs. Northcott, he prayed that his decomposing body would slow long enough for him to spend just a bit more time watching his Adalie grow into her role as a wife and, hopefully, as a mother

He felt each breath become shorter, and his body spent so much more energy on each. He knew it would not be long now; the pneumonia he had caught last month had wrecked his frail body. His whole family had been called back to France by a frantic Christine.

His body may be weak and decrepit, but his mind was as strong as ever.

He could see the agony on his beloved's face every single day as she cried, begging him not to leave her. "We've...had...much...longer... than we...were...supposed...to," he wheezed.

His beautiful wife, who had gotten lovelier with age, shook her heard vehemently, her gray-brown curls following the movements. "It hasn't been long enough, Erik, please. I need you," she cried. "I've always needed you!"

His heart broke, but he could do nothing as his wife laid her head on his stomach and sobbed.

"Mama," a gentle voice whispered into the room, and his eyes could just barely make out the form of his youngest daughter. He tracked her movements as she came to comfort her mother.

Christine lifted her head off his stomach and caressed his ugly face. "I love you." She ran her hand down to his, and he put all his strength into squeezing it. She pulled their connected hands to her chest, and he shifted his eyes back to his sweet Adalie.

She had grown so much in the three years since her wedding. He had been lucky enough to see the birth of his granddaughter, Emilie, and be a part of her life for the last two years.

He gave her an almost imperceptible nod, and she quickly moved to call in her siblings. When he had first gotten sick, he had put her in charge because he knew she was the best equipped to deal with the family as well as himself. Soon, the door opened and closed once more, and his children surrounded his bedside. Estelle gripped his other hand, Gustave went beside Christine and grabbed both his shoulder as well as Christine's, and Adalie was on the same side as Estelle, stroking his leg.

He did not know what he did to deserve this life, especially not after all he had done, but he was so thankful. A tear slipped from his eye as he looked into each one of their beloved faces. "I...love...you...all."

They whispered their sentiments back, and it was in their quiet embrace of love moments later that Erik passed on.

Adalie pushed the pram on the path, her two young babies quietly sleeping. Her husband was silent beside her, and she was thankful her nieces had jumped at the chance of spending time with their little cousin; otherwise, Emilie, her rambunctious little girl, would be asking a million and one questions.

When they got to their destination, she just stood and looked at the mausoleum. The mausoleum that now held both her parents. After her father had died, her mother had been diagnosed with cancer and had passed away almost exactly a year later, at the age of 60.

That was three months ago.

She sniffled and grabbed one baby girl from the pram, and Walt wordlessly grabbed the other girl. "Hi, Mama, Papa," she whispered. The baby at her chest stirred, and she quickly soothed her. "I brought some visitors for you today. Mama, you knew they were coming, and I so very much wished you had been able to hold on just to meet them." She sucked in a quivering breath. "But it's okay," she croaked, "Estelle was there with me the entire time, and she's promised to be there with me if Walt and I decide to have any more babies." Walt stroked her back, and she wiped off the tears on her cheeks with the back of one hand. She gave the tomb a watery smile. "Enough rambling from me, though. I'm sure you guys just want to meet your granddaughters. Our first baby girl, over in Walt's arms, was quick and easy, and we named her Lotte; for you, Mama. Papa, I know you didn't like some of the implications that come from that story, but it was a favorite for both Mama and me."

She took another deep breath as she bounced the baby in her arms. "Our second baby decided to be stubborn and had to come into this world with a bit of a dramatic flair," she laughed quietly, "which is why it was so easy to name her Erika, after her stubborn, stubborn grand-père."

In a different, beautiful place, Erik gripped his wife's hand as they watched their daughter introduce their newest granddaughters to them below. He was honored and so proud of his little girl.

His gentle bird was soaring; he may not be down there with her, but he would always be watching.

Excuse me while I go cry... I loved this little series, and thank you to those that took their time to read, review, follow, and/or favorite! I appreciate you all!

Below I've included some dates, as well as all the grandkids names' just in case you were curious :)

Erik: 1848-1922

Christine: 1863-1923

Estelle Arnault: 1883; married Louis (1879) in 1901; 2 daughters, Elissa (1903) & Clara (1905)

Gustave Destler: 1888; married Eula Bliss (1889) in 1908; 2 sons, Edmond (1909) & Auguste (1915), and 1 daughter, Clementine (1911)

Adalie Northcott: 1898; married Walter (1895) in 1919; 3 daughters, Emilie (1920) and twins Lotte & Erika (1923), and 3 sons, Archibald (1925), Roland (1927), & Thomas (1930)

Reviews are lovely!

AL.x