“I don’t know why I never noticed that little Marie is the prettiest girl in the province!” he thought.  “She hasn’t a great deal of color, but her little face is as fresh as a wild rose!  What a pretty mouth and what a cunning little nose!—­She isn’t tall for her age, but she’s built like a little quail and light as a lark!—­I don’t know why they think so much at home of a tall, stout, red-faced woman.  My wife was rather thin and pale, and she suited me above all others.—­This girl is delicate, but she’s perfectly well and as pretty to look at as a white kid!  And what a sweet, honest way she has! how well you can read her kind heart in her eyes, even when they are closed in sleep!—­As for wit, she has more than my dear Catherine had, I must admit, and one would never be bored with her.—­She’s light-hearted, she’s virtuous, she’s a hard worker, she’s affectionate, and she’s amusing.—­I don’t see what more one could ask.

“But what business have I to think of all that?” resumed Germain, trying to look in another direction.  “My father-in-law wouldn’t listen to it, and the whole family would treat me as a madman!  Besides, she herself wouldn’t have me, poor child!—­She thinks I am too old:  she told me so.  She isn’t interested; it doesn’t worry her much to think of being in want and misery, of wearing poor clothes and suffering with hunger two or three months in the year, provided that she satisfies her heart some day and can give herself to a husband who suits her—­and she’s right, too!  I would do the same in her place—­and at this moment, if I could follow my own will, instead of embarking on a marriage that I don’t like the idea of, I would choose a girl to my taste.”

The more Germain strove to argue with himself and calm himself, the less he succeeded.  He walked twenty steps away, to lose himself in the mist; and then he suddenly found himself on his knees beside the two sleeping children.  Once he even tried to kiss Petit-Pierre, who had one arm around Marie’s neck, and he went so far astray that Marie, feeling a breath as hot as fire upon her lips, awoke and looked at him in terror, understanding nothing of what was taking place within him.

“I didn’t see you, my poor children!” said Germain, quickly drawing back.  “I came very near falling on you and hurting you.”

Little Marie was innocent enough to believe him and went to sleep again.  Germain went to the other side of the fire, and vowed that he would not stir until she was awake.  He kept his word, but it was a hard task.  He thought that he should go mad.