"Blind!" cried Perrine.
She repeated the word quite softly to herself two or three times.
"Has he been blind long?" she asked, in the same awed voice.
"For a long time his sight was failing," replied Rosalie, "but no one paid any attention; they thought that he was fretting over his son being away. Then he got pneumonia, and that left him with a bad cough, and then one day he couldn't see to read, then he went quite blind. Think what it would have meant to the town if he had been obliged to give up his factories! But no; he wasn't going to give them up; not he! He goes to business just the same as though he had his sight. Those who counted on being the master there, 'cause he fell ill have been put in their places." She lowered her voice. "His nephews and Talouel; they're the ones I mean."
Aunt Zenobie came to the door.
"Say, Rosalie, have you finished, you young loafer?" she called.
"I've only just this minute got through," answered Rosalie, defiantly.
"Well, there are some customers to wait on ... come on."
"I'll have to go," said Rosalie, regretfully. "Sorry I can't stay with you."
"Oh, don't mind me," said little Perrine, politely.