good management she managed to appear pretty well
dressed, although her gowns were much darned, and hardly held together.
She always wore the tiny brown Paimpol shawl, which was for best, and
upon which the long muslin rolls of her white caps had fallen for past
sixty years; her own marriage shawl, formerly blue, had been dyed for
the wedding of her son Pierre, and since then worn only on Sundays,
looked quite nice.

She still carried herself very straight, not at all like an old woman;
and, in spite of her pointed chin, her soft eyes and delicate
profile made all think her still very charming. She was held in great
respect--one could see that if only by the nods that people gave her.

On her way she passed before the house of her gallant, the sweetheart of
former days, a carpenter by trade; now an octogenarian, who sat outside
his door all the livelong day, while the young ones, his sons, worked in
the shop. It was said that he never had consoled himself for her loss,
for neither in first or second marriage would she have him; but with
old age his feeling for her had become a sort of comical spite, half
friendly and half mischievous, and he always called out to her:

"Aha, _la belle_, when must I call to take your measure?"

But she declined with thanks; she had not yet quite decided to have that
dress made. The truth is, that the old man, with rather questionable
taste, spoke of the suit in deal planks, which is the last of all our
terrestrial garments.

"Well, whenever you like; but don't be shy in asking for it, you know,
old lady."

He had made this joke several times; but, to-day, she could scarcely
take it good-naturedly. She felt more tired than ever of her
hard-working life, and her thoughts flew back to her dear grandson--the
last of them all, who, upon his return from Iceland, was to enter the
navy for five years! Perhaps he might have to go to China, to the war!
Would she still be about, upon his return? The thought alone was agony
to her. No, she was surely not so happy as she looked, poor old granny!

And was it really possible and true, that her last darling was to be
torn from her? She, perhaps, might die alone, without seeing him again!
Certainly, some gentlemen of the town, whom she knew, had done all they
could to keep him from having to start, urging that he was the sole
support of an old and almost destitute grandmother, who could no longer
work. But they had not succeeded--because of Jean M