land--and were inclined to do what they could to make her more
contented. But she desired them chiefly as listeners, and the things she
had to tell were little to their taste, and less to her credit from
their point of view, though she herself evidently looked upon them as
every-day matters, and calculated to inspire these simple island-folk
with the respect due to a woman of the greater world outside.

Grannie's views of her grand-daughter-in-law had never altered from the
first moment she set eyes on her.

When Mrs. Tom came in to hear herself talk, one afternoon when Tom was
away fishing, the old lady simply sat and stared at her from the depths
of her big black sun-bonnet, and never opened her lips or gave any sign
of interest or hearing.

"Is she deaf?" asked Mrs. Tom after a while.

"Dear me, no. Grannie hears everything," said Mrs. Hamon, with a smile
at thought of all the old lady would have to say presently.

"Nom d'un nom, then why doesn't she speak? Is it dumb she is?"

"Neither deaf nor dumb--nor yet a fool," rapped Grannie, so sharply that
the visitor jumped.

And during the remainder of her visit, no matter to whom she was talking
or what she was saying, Julie's snapping black eyes would inevitably
keep working round to the depths of the big black sun-bonnet, and at
times her discourse lost point and trailed to a ragged end.