through the town, climb the hill, open the gate and arrive at Virginia's
tomb. It was a small column of pink marble with a flat stone at its
base, and it was surrounded by a little plot enclosed by chains. The
flower-beds were bright with blossoms. Felicite watered their leaves,
renewed the gravel, and knelt on the ground in order to till the earth
properly. When Madame Aubain was able to visit the cemetery she felt
very much relieved and consoled.

Years passed, all alike and marked by no other events than the return
of the great church holidays: Easter, Assumption, All Saints' Day.
Household happenings constituted the only data to which in later years
they often referred. Thus, in 1825, workmen painted the vestibule; in
1827, a portion of the roof almost killed a man by falling into the
yard. In the summer of 1828, it was Madame's turn to offer the hallowed
bread; at that time, Bourais disappeared mysteriously; and the
old acquaintances, Guyot, Liebard, Madame Lechaptois, Robelin, old
Gremanville, paralysed since a long time, passed away one by one. One
night, the driver of the mail in Pont-l'Eveque announced the Revolution
of July. A few days afterward a new sub-prefect was nominated, the Baron
de Larsonniere, ex-consul in America, who, besides his wife, had his
sister-in-law and her three grown daughters with him. They were often
seen on their lawn, dressed in loose blouses, and they had a parrot
and a negro servant. Madame Aubain received a call, which she returned
promptly. As soon as she caught sight of them, Felicite would run and
notify her mistress. But only one thing was capable of arousing her: a
letter from her son.

He could not follow any profession as he was absorbed in drinking. His
mother paid his debts and he made fresh ones; and the sighs that she
heaved while she knitted at the window reached the ears of Felicite who