acquainted with the various phases of Guillaume's delicate operations,
and their terrible possibilities, that she would occasionally give him a
helping hand.

That morning, as she sat there mending some house linen,--her eyesight
still being so keen that in spite of her seventy years she wore no
spectacles,--she now and again glanced at Guillaume as if to make sure
that he forgot nothing. Then feeling satisfied, she would once more bend
over her work. She remained very strong and active. Her hair was only
just turning white, and she had kept all her teeth, while her face still
looked refined, though it was slowly withering with age and had acquired
an expression of some severity. As a rule she was a woman of few words;
her life was one of activity and good management. When she opened her
lips it was usually to give advice, to counsel reason, energy and
courage. For some time past she had been growing more taciturn than ever,
as if all her attention were claimed by the household matters which were
in her sole charge; still, her fine eyes would rest thoughtfully on those
about her, on the three young men, and on Guillaume, Marie and Pierre,
who all obeyed her as if she were their acknowledged queen. If she looked
at them in that pensive way, was it that she foresaw certain changes, and
noticed certain incidents of which the others remained unconscious?
Perhaps so. At all events she became even graver, and more attentive than
in the past. It was as if she were waiting for some hour to strike when
all her wisdom and authority would be required.

"Be careful, Guillaume," she at last remarked, as she once more looked up
from her sewing. "You seem absent-minded this morning. Is anything
worrying you?"

He glanced at her with a smile. "No, nothing, I assure you," he replied.