Do you hear ?" We heard, and we heard her laugh as she spoke, raising her gold lorgnon to her eyes and gazing at us with that half-quizzical look which so often comes over her face.
She was older than Peter--must have been: I never knew exactly.

It would not have been wise to ask her, and nobody else knew but Peter, and he never told.

And yet there was no mark of real old age upon her.

She and Peter were alike in this.

Her hair, worn Pompadour, was gray--an honest black-and-white gray; her eyes were bright as needle points; the skin slightly wrinkled, but fresh and rosy--a spare, straight, well-groomed old lady of--perhaps sixty--perhaps sixty-five, depending on her dress, or undress, for her shoulders were still full and well rounded.