quired, first went upstairs again to give my aunt her pepsin and to
find out from her what she would take for luncheon, very few mornings
pased but she was called upon to give an opinion, or to furnish an
explanation, in regard to some important event.

"Just fancy, Francoise, Mme. Goupil went by more than a quarter of an
hour late to fetch her sister: if she loses any more time on the way I
should not be at all surprised if she got in after the Elevation."

"Well, there'd be nothing wonderful in that," would be the answer. Or:

"Francoise, if you had come in five minutes ago, you would have seen
Mme. Imbert go past with some asparagus twice the size of what mother
Callot has: do try to find out from her cook where she got them. You
know you've been putting asparagus in all your sauces this spring; you
might be able to get some like these for our visitors."

"I shouldn't be surprised if they came from the Cure's," Francoise would
say, and:

"I'm sure you wouldn't, my poor Francoise," my aunt would reply, raising
her shoulders. "From the Cure's, indeed! You know quite well that he
can never grow anything but wretched little twigs of asparagus, not
asparagus at all. I tell you these ones were as thick as my arm. Not
your arm, of course, but my-poor arm, which has grown so much thinner
again this year." Or:

"Francoise, didn't you hear that bell just now! It split my head."

"No, Mme. Octave."

"Ah, poor girl, your skull must be very thick; you may thank God for
that. It was Maguelone come to fetch Dr. Piperaud. He came out with her
at once and they went off along the Rue de l'Oiseau. There must be some
child ill."

"Oh dear, dear; the poor little creature!" would come with a sigh from
Francoise, who could not hear of any calamity befalling a person unknown
to her, even in some distant part of the world, without beginning to
lament. Or:

"Francoise, for whom did they toll the passing-bell just now? Oh dear,
of course, it would be for Mme. Rousseau. And to think that I had
forgotten that she passed away the other night. Indeed, it is time the
Lord called me home too; I don't know what has become of my head since I
lost my poor Octave. But I am wasting your time, my good girl."

"Indeed no, Mme. Octave, my time is not so precious; whoever made our
time didn't sell it to us. I am just going to see that my fire hasn't
gone out."

In this way Francoise and my aunt made a critical valuation between
them, in the co