He resumed, “You think only of others, Josephine, but I shall think of you as well.  I shall not allow your life to be wasted in a needless struggle against nature.”  Then turning to Rose, who had glided into the room, and stood amazed, “Her griefs were as many before her child was born, yet her health stood firm.  Why? because nature was on her side.  Now she is sinking into the grave.  Why? because she is defying nature.  Nature intended her to be pressing her child to her bosom day and night; instead of that, a peasant woman at Frejus nurses the child, and the mother pines at Beaurepaire.”

At this, Josephine leaned her face on her hands on the doctor’s shoulder.  In this attitude she murmured to him, “I have never seen him since I left Frejus.”  Dr. Aubertin sighed for her.  Emboldened by this, she announced her intention of going to Frejus the very next day to see her little Henri.  But to this Dr. Aubertin demurred.  “What, another journey to Frejus?” said he, “when the first has already roused Edouard’s suspicions; I can never consent to that.”

Then Josephine surprised them both.  She dropped her coaxing voice and pecked the doctor like an irritated pigeon.  “Take care,” said she, “don’t be too cruel to me.  You see I am obedient, resigned.  I have given up all I lived for:  but if I am never to have my little boy’s arms round me to console me, then—­why torment me any longer?  Why not say to me, ’Josephine, you have offended Heaven; pray for pardon, and die’?”

Then the doctor was angry in his turn.  “Oh, go then,” said he, “go to Frejus; you will have Edouard Riviere for a companion this time.  Your first visit roused his suspicions.  So before you go tell your mother all; for since she is sure to find it out, she had better hear it from you than from another.”

“Doctor, have pity on me,” said Josephine.

“You have no heart,” said Rose.  “She shall see him though, in spite of you.”

“Oh, yes! he has a heart,” said Josephine:  “he is my best friend.  He will let me see my boy.”

All this, and the tearful eyes and coaxing yet trembling voice, was hard to resist.  But Aubertin saw clearly, and stood firm.  He put his handkerchief to his eyes a moment:  then took the pining young mother’s hand.  “And, do you think,” said he, “I do not pity you and love your boy?  Ah! he will never want a father whilst I live; and from this moment he is under my care.  I will go to see him; I will bring you news, and all in good time; I will place him where you shall visit him without imprudence; but, for the present, trust a wiser head than yours or Rose’s; and give me your sacred promise not to go to Frejus.”

Weighed down by his good-sense and kindness, Josephine resisted no longer in words.  She just lifted her hands in despair and began to cry.  It was so piteous, Aubertin was ready to yield in turn, and consent to any imprudence, when he met with an unexpected ally.