, others had jugs of cider, while others had on the
tables before them black coffee or whisky. And what a tapping of glasses
and voices raised in angry dispute!

"What a lot of people there seem to be drinking," said Perrine.

"That's because it's Sunday. They got two weeks' pay yesterday. They
can't always drink like this; you'll see."

What was characteristic of most of the houses was that nearly all,
although old and badly built of brick or wood, affected an air of
coquetry, at least in the painting that embellished the doors and
windows. This attracted the eye like a sign. And in truth it was a sign,
for in default of other preparations, the bright paint gave a promise of
cleanliness which a glance at the inside of the place belied at once.

"We've arrived," said Rosalie, pointing with her free hand to a small
red brick house which stood a little way from the road, behind a ragged
hedge. Adjoining the house was a store where general provisions were
sold, and also liquor. The floors above were rented to the best lodgers,
and behind the house was a building which was rented out to the factory
hands. A little gate in the hedge led to a small garden planted with
apple trees and to a gravel walk leading to the house.

As soon as Rosalie and Perrine entered the yard, a woman, still young,
called out from the doorway: "Hurry up, you slow coach! Say, you take a
time to go to Picquigny, don't you?"

"That's my Aunt Zenobie," whispered Rosalie; "she's none too nice."

"What yer whispering there?" yelled the disagreeable woman.

"I said that if somebody hadn't been there to help carry this basket I
wouldn't be here by now," retorted Rosalie.

"You'd better hold your tongue!"

These words were uttered in such a shrill tone that they brought a tall
old woman to the door.

"Who are you going on at now, Zenobie?" she asked, calmly.

"She's mad 'cause I'm late, grandmother; but the basket's awful heavy,"
said Rosalie.

"There, there!" said the grandmother, placidly; "put it down and go and
get your supper; you'll find it kept warm on the stove."

"You wait for me here in the yard," said Rosalie to Perrine; "I'll be
out in a minute and we'll have supper together. You go and buy your
bread. You'll find the baker in the third house on the left. Hurry up."

When Perrine returned she found Rosalie seated at a table under a big
apple tree. On the table were two plates full of meat stew and potatoes.

"Sit down and share