as a little fair girl, neat, but sad, unlike the others.

"We adopted her last year," explained the mother; "we had enough
children as it was, of course, but what else could we do, Mademoiselle
Gaud, for her daddy belonged to the _Maria-Dieu-t'aime_, lost last
season off Iceland, as you know; so the neighbours divided the little
ones between them, and this one fell to our lot."

Hearing herself spoken of, the adopted child hung her pretty head and
smiled, hiding herself behind little Laumec Gaos, her favourite.

There was a look of comfort all over the place, and radiant health
bloomed on all the children's rosy cheeks.

They received Gaud very profusely, like a great lady whose visit was an
honour to the family. She was taken upstairs, up a newly-built wooden
staircase, to see the room above, which was the glory of the home. She
remembered the history of its construction; it was after the finding of
a derelict vessel in the channel, which luck had befallen Yann's father
and his cousin the pilot.

The room was very gay and pretty in its whiteness; there were two town
beds in it, with pink chintz curtains, and a large table in the
middle. Through the window the whole of Paimpol could be seen, with
the Icelanders at anchor off shore, and the channel through which they
passed.

She did not dare question, but she would have liked to have known where
Yann slept; probably as a child he had slept downstairs in one of
the antique cupboard-beds. But perhaps now he slept under those pink
draperies. She would have loved to have known all the details of his
life, especially what he did in the long winter evenings.

A heavy footstep on the stairs made her tremble. But it was not Yann,
though a man much like him; notwithstanding his white hair, as tall and
as straight. It was old father Gaos returning from fishing.

After he had saluted her and asked her the object of her visit, he
signed her receipt for her which was rather a long operation, as his
hand was not very steady, he explained.

But he would not accept the hundred francs as a final payment, but only
as an instalment; he would speak to M. Mevel again about it. Whereupon
Gaud, to whom money was nothing, smiled imperceptibly; she had fancied
the business was not quite terminated, and this just suited her.

They made something like excuses for Yann's absence; as if they found it
more orthodox for the whole family to assemble to receive her. Perhaps
the father had gu