"No," she said. "Auntie Sue is all right, Jeanne. She only wants you to be happy."
"Ah, but how can poor Auntie Sue sell the dresses now, when I am not there to show them for her?" asked Jeanne.
"She will not have to sell dresses any more," said Grandmother. "Grandmother will ask Auntie Sue to live with us always, Jeanne, if—"
"If what, Grandmother?"
"If you want her to," continued Madame Villard.
"Oh, poor dear Auntie Sue!" cried Jeanne. "She has been kind and good to me. She could not help doing what she did. I love Auntie Sue, and I want her to live with us always and always!"
"You are a good little girl, Jeanne. Your father would have been proud of you," said Grandmother softly.
Then Grandmother continued, and her voice was husky, "You have been as brave a soldier as he, Jeanne."
Grandmother arose. The two little girls followed her to the white dotted graveyard. They knelt before one of the white slabs. Jeanne saw her own father's name in letters before her. She tried to pray and to keep her eyes on those words, "Paul Villard." But the letters ran together.