It was manifest that Yann meant to accompany them; perhaps all the wayhome. They walked on, all three together, as if following the cat'sfuneral procession; it was almost comical to watch them pass; and theold folks on the doorsteps grinned at the sight. Old Yvonne, in themiddle, carried the dead pet; Gaud walked on her right, trembling andblushing, and tall Yann on the left, grave and haughty.

　　The aged woman had become quiet now; she had tidied her hair upherself and walked silently, looking alternately at them both from thetail of her eyes, which had become clear again.

　　Gaud said nothing for fear of giving Yann the opportunity of takinghis leave; she would have liked to feel his kind, tender eyeseternally on her, and to walk along with her own closed so as to thinkof nothing else; to wander along thus by his side in the dream she wasweaving, instead of arriving so soon at their lonely, dark cottage,where all must fade away.

　　At the door occurred one of those moments of indecision when the heartseems to stop beating. The grandam went in without turning round, thenGaud, hesitating, and Yann, behind, entered, too.

　　He was in their house for the first time in his life--probably withoutany reason. What could he want? As he passed over the threshold hetouched his hat, and then his eyes fell and dwelt upon Sylvestre'sportrait in its small black-beaded frame. He went slowly up to it, asto a tomb.

　　Gaud remained standing with her hands resting on the table. He lookedaround him; she watched him take a silent inspection of their poverty.

　　Very poor looked this cottage of the two forsaken women. At least hemight feel some pity for her, seeing her reduced to this misery insideits plain granite and whitewash. Only the fine white bed remained ofall past splendour, and involuntarily Yann's eyes rested there.

　　He said nothing. Why did he not go? The old grandmother, althoughstill so sharp in her lucid intervals, appeared not to notice him. Howodd! So they remained over against one another, seeming respectivelyto question with a yearning desire. But the moments were flitting, andeach second seemed to emphasize the silence between them. They gazedat one another more and more searchingly, as if in solemn expectationof some wonderful, exquisite event, which was too long in coming.

　　"Gaud," he began, in a low grave voice, "if you're still of a mindnow----"What was he going to say? She felt instinctively that he had suddenlytaken a mighty resolution--rapidly as he always did, but hardly daredword it.

　　"If you be still of a mind--d'ye see, the fish has sold well thisyear, and I've a little money ahead----""If she were still of a mind!" What was he asking of her? Had sheheard aright? She felt almost crushed under the immensity of what shethought she premised.

　　All the while, old Yvonne, in her corner, pricked up her ears, feelinghappiness approach.

　　"We could make a splice on it--a marriage, right off, MademoiselleGaud, if you are still of the same mind?"He listened here for her answer, which did not come. What could stopher from pronouncing that "yes?" He looked astonished and frightened,she could see that. Her hands clutched the table edge. She had turnedquite white and her eyes were misty; she was voiceless, and lookedlike some maid dying in her flower.

　　"Well, Gaud, why don't you answer?" said Granny Yvonne, who had risenand come towards them. "Don't you see, it rather surprises her,Monsieur Yann. You............