riginal state. The two
principal beams of the ceiling, and the three visible cross-beams of
support, had not even been whitewashed, and they were blackened by smoke
and worm-eaten, while, through the openings of the broken plaster, here
and there, the laths of the inner joists could be seen. On one of the
stone corbels, which supported the beams, was the date 1463, without
doubt the date of the construction of the building. The chimney-piece,
also in stone, broken and disjointed, had traces of its original
elegance, with its slender uprights, its brackets, its frieze with a
cornice, and its basket-shaped funnel terminating in a crown. On the
frieze could be seen even now, as if softened by age, an ingenious
attempt at sculpture, in the way of a likeness of Saint Clair, the
patron of embroiderers. But this chimney was no longer used, and
the fireplace had been turned into an open closet by putting shelves
therein, on which were piles of designs and patterns. The room was now
heated by a great bell-shaped cast-iron stove, the pipe of which, after
going the whole length of the ceiling, entered an opening made expressly
for it in the wall. The doors, already shaky, were of the time of Louis
XIV. The original tiles of the floor were nearly all gone, and had been
replaced, one by one, by those of a later style. It was nearly a hundred
years since the yellow walls had been coloured, and at the top of
the room they were almost of a greyish white, and, lower down, were
scratched and spotted with saltpetre. Each year there was talk of
repainting them, but nothing had yet been done, from a dislike of making
any change.

Hubertine, busy at her work, raised her head as Angelique spoke and
said:

"You know that if our work is done on Sunday, I have promised to give
you a basket of pansies for your garden."

The young girl exclaimed gaily: "Oh, yes! that is true. Ah, well! I will
do my best then! But where is my thimble? It seems as if all working
implements take to themselves wings and fly away, if not in constant
use."

She flipped the old _doigtier_ of ivory on the second joint of her
little finger, and took her place on the other side of the frame,
opposite to the window.

Since the middle of the last century there had not been the slightest
modification in the fittings and arrangements of the workroom. Fashions
changed, the art of the embroiderer was transformed, but there was still
seen fastened to the wall the chantlate,