plate and rose calmly from her chair. She took the plate and put it on
a little work-table by her mother's side. The others pretended to be all
mouths, but they were all ears. The baroness looked in Rose's face
with an air of wonder that was not very encouraging. Then, as Rose said
nothing, she raised her aristocratic hand with a courteous but decided
gesture of refusal.

Undaunted Rose laid her palm softly on the baroness's shoulder, and said
to her as firmly as the baroness herself had just spoken,--

"Il le veut."

The baroness was staggered. Then she looked with moist eyes at the fair
young face, then she reflected. At last she said, with an exquisite
mixture of politeness and affection, "It is his daughter who has told me
'Il le veut.' I obey."

Rose returning like a victorious knight from the lists, saucily
exultant, and with only one wet eyelash, was solemnly kissed and petted
by Josephine and the doctor.

Thus they loved one another in this great, old, falling house. Their
familiarity had no coarse side; a form, not of custom but affection, it
went hand-in-hand with courtesy by day and night.

The love of the daughters for their mother had all the tenderness,
subtlety, and unselfishness of womanly natures, together with a certain
characteristic of the female character. And whither that one defect
led them, and by what gradations, it may be worth the reader's while to
observe.