His eyes, much weakened, and protected by glasses, no longer showed the innocence of their light-blue orbs, which in former days had often excited a smile; his white hair now gave gravity to much that twelve years earlier had looked like silliness, and lent itself to ridicule.

Time, which does such damage to faces with refined and delicate features, only improves those which, in their youth, have been course and massive.

This was the case with Phellion.

He occupied the leisure of his old age in making an abridgment of the History of France; for Phellion was the author of several works adopted by the University.
When la Peyrade presented himself, the family were all together.

Madame Barniol was just telling her mother about one of her babies, which was slightly indisposed.