“I saw him,” said Marie, trying to force back her tears.  “He was running toward the woods with the Soulas children, and I thought it likely he had been away for some time, for he was hungry, and was eating wild plums and blackberries off the bushes.  I gave him some bread from my luncheon, and he said:  ’Thanks, my dear little Marie; when you come to our house, I’ll give you some cake.’  The little fellow is just too winning, Germain!”

“Yes, he is a winning child, and I don’t know what I wouldn’t do for him,” the ploughman replied.  “If his grandmother hadn’t had more sense than I, I couldn’t have kept from taking him with me when I saw him crying so hard that his poor little heart was all swollen.”

“Well! why didn’t you bring him, Germain? he wouldn’t have been in the way; he’s so good when you do what he wants you to.”

“It seems that he would have been in the way where I am going.  At least, that was Pere Maurice’s opinion.—­For my part, I should have said, on the contrary, that we ought to see how he would be received, and that nobody could help taking kindly to such a dear child.—­But they say at the house that I mustn’t begin by exhibiting the burdens of the household.—­I don’t know why I talk to you about this, little Marie:  you don’t understand it.”

“Yes, I do, Germain; I know you are going to get a wife; my mother told me, and bade me not mention it to any one, either at home or where I am going, and you needn’t be afraid:  I won’t say a word.”

“You will do well, for it isn’t settled; perhaps I shan’t suit the lady in question.”

“We must hope you will, Germain.  Pray, why shouldn’t you suit her?”

“Who knows?  I have three children, and that’s a heavy load for a woman who isn’t their mother!”

“That’s true; but your children aren’t like other children.”

“Do you think so?”

“They are as beautiful as little angels, and so well brought up that you can’t find more lovable children anywhere.”

“There’s Sylvain, he’s not over good.”

“He’s very small! he can’t be anything but terrible; but he’s so bright!”

“True, he is bright:  and such courage! he isn’t a bit afraid of cows or bulls, and if I would permit him, he’d be climbing up on the horses with his older brother.”

“If I had been in your place, I’d have brought the older one.  Your having such a beautiful child would surely make her love you on the spot!”

“Yes, if the woman is fond of children; but suppose she doesn’t like them?”

“Are there women who don’t like children?”

“Not many, I think; but there are some, and that is what worries me.”

“Then you don’t know this woman at all?”

“No more than you do, and I am afraid I shall not know her any better after I have seen her.  I am not suspicious.  When any one says pleasant words to me, I believe them; but I have had reason to repent more than once, for words are not deeds.”