her
arms, and kissing it, while a country nurse seemed to be claiming her
wages from her. The poor woman, who without doubt had exhausted every
explanation and every excuse, was crying in silence, and one of her
neighbors was trying in vain to appease the countrywoman. Excited by
that love of money which the evils of a hard peasant life but too well
excuse, and disappointed by the refusal of her expected wages, the nurse
was launching forth in recriminations, threats, and abuse. In spite of
myself, I listened to the quarrel, not daring to interfere, and not
thinking of going away, when Michael Arout appeared at the shop door.

The joiner had just come from the Barrier, where he had passed part of
the day at the public-house. His blouse, without a belt, and untied at
the throat, showed none of the noble stains of work; in his hand he held
his cap, which he had just picked up out of the mud; his hair was in
disorder, his eye fixed, and the pallor of drunkenness in his face. He
came reeling in, looked wildly around him, and called Genevieve.

She heard his voice, gave a start, and rushed into the shop; but at the
sight of the miserable man, who was trying in vain to steady himself,
she pressed the child in her arms and bent over it with tears.

The countrywoman and the neighbor had followed her.

"Come! come! do you intend to pay me, after all?" cried the former in a
rage.

"Ask the master for the money," ironically answered the woman from the
next door, pointing to the joiner, who had just fallen against the
counter.

The countrywoman looked at him.

"Ah! he is the father," returned she. "Well, what idle beggars! not to
have a penny to pay honest people, and get tipsy with wine in that way."

The drunkard raised his head.

"What! what!" stammered he; "who is it that talks of wine? I've had
nothing but brandy! But I am going back again to get some wine! Wife,
give me your money; there are some friends waiting for me at the wine
shop."

Genevieve did not answer; he went round the counter, opened the till,
and began to rummage in it.

"You see where the money of the house goes!" observed the neighbor to
the countrywoman; "how can the poor unhappy woman pay you when he takes
all?"

"Is that my fault?" replied the nurse angrily. "They owe it to me and
somehow or other they must pay me!"

And letting loose her tongue, as those women out of the country do, she
began relating at length all the care she had taken