So by degrees she settled down once more, installed beside her grandparents in the old pavilion, which Mathieu fitted up for the three of them.  And wishing to occupy herself, irrespective of her income from the factory, she even set to work again and painted miniatures, which a dealer in Paris readily purchased.  But her grief was mostly healed by her little Guillaume, that child bequeathed to her by her dead husband, in whom he resuscitated.  And it was much the same with Marianne since the birth of Benjamin.  A new son had replaced the one she had lost, and helped to fill the void in her heart.  The two women, the two mothers, found infinite solace in nursing those babes.  For them they forgot themselves; they reared them together, watching them grow side by side; they gave them the breast at the same hours, and it was their desire to see them both become very strong, very handsome, and very good.  Although one mother was almost twice as old as the other, they became, as it were, sisters.  The same nourishing milk flowed from both their fruitful bosoms.  And gleams of light penetrated their mourning:  they began to laugh when they saw those little cherubs laugh, and nothing could have been gayer than the sight of that mother-in-law and that daughter-in-law side by side, almost mingling, having but one cradle between them, amid an unceasing florescence of maternity.

“Be careful,” Mathieu suddenly said to Charlotte; “hide your drawings, here are Gervais and Claire coming about the table.”

Gervais at nineteen years of age was quite a colossus, the tallest and the strongest of the family, with short, curly black hair, large bright eyes, and a full broad-featured face.  He had remained his father’s favorite son, the son of the fertile earth, the one in whom Mathieu fostered a love for the estate, a passion for skilful agriculture, in order that later on the young man might continue the good work which had been begun.  Mathieu already disburdened himself on Gervais of a part of his duties, and was only waiting to see him married to give him the control of the whole farm.  And he often thought of adjoining to him Claire when she found a husband in some worthy, sturdy fellow who would assume part of the labor.  Two men agreeing well would be none too many for an enterprise which was increasing in importance every day.  Since Marianne had again been nursing, Claire had been attending to her work.  Though she had no beauty, she was of vigorous health and quite strong for her seventeen years.  She busied herself more particularly with cookery and household affairs, but she also kept the accounts, being shrewd-witted and very economically inclined, on which account the prodigals of the family often made fun of her.

“And so it’s here that the table is to be set,” said Gervais; “I shall have to see that the lawn is mowed then.”