But why should I be grumpy?
And how do you know I shouldn't be so if I were living up alone in an attic, with no children to love and cheer me, my poor old hands swollen and twisted with rheumatism, perhaps, and very little money.

Ah, what a sad picture! Poor old woman, I must try to find out some way of helping her." "She washes lace for ladies, Prosper says," said Ralph, eagerly.

"Perhaps if you had some lace to wash, grandmother." "I'll see what I can do," said grandmother.

"You get me her name and address from Prosper.

And, Ralph, we might think of something for a little Christmas present for her, might we not?
You must talk to your friend about it.