Bon papa looked at me sadly.
"'It is never now as it used to be,' he said.

'My little girl has never a moment now to spare for the poor old man.

And she would even wish to leave him for ever; for thou knowest well, my child, I could not live with the thought of thee so far away.

When my little girl returned she would find no old grandfather, he would be lying in the cold church-yard.' "The poor old man held out his arms to me, but I turned away.

I saw that his eyes were filled with tears--he was growing so feeble now--and I saw, too, that my mother, who was ironing at the table--work in which I could have helped her--stooped to wipe away a tear with the corner of her apron.