ve and deliberate, said nothing; but approved of what his
wife said by a continued nodding of his head.

Mme. d'Hubieres, in dismay, began to weep, and turning to her husband,
with a voice full of tears, the voice of a child used to having all its
wishes gratified, she stammered:

"They will not do it, Henri, they will not do it."

Then he made a last attempt: "But, my friends, think of the child's
future, of his happiness, of----"

The peasant woman, however, exasperated, cut him short:

"It's all considered! It's all understood! Get out of this, and don't
let me see you here again--the idea of wanting to take away a child like
that!"

Then Mme. d'Hubieres bethought herself that there were two children,
quite little, and she asked, through her tears, with the tenacity of a
wilful and spoiled woman:

"But is the other little one not yours?"

Father Tuvache answered: "No, it is our neighbors'. You can go to them,
if you wish." And he went back into his house whence resounded the
indignant voice of his wife.

The Vallins were at table, in the act of slowly eating slices of bread
which they parsimoniously spread with a little rancid butter on a plate
between the two.

M. d'Hubieres recommenced his propositions, but with more insinuations,
more oratorical precautions, more guile.

The two country people shook their heads, in sign of refusal, but when
they learned that they were to have a hundred francs a month, they
considered, consulting one another by glances, much disturbed. They kept
silent for a long time, tortured, hesitating. At last the woman asked:
"What do you think about it, man?" In a sententious tone he said: "I say
that it's not to be despised."

Then Mme. d'Hubieres, trembling with anguish, spoke of the future of
their child, of his happiness, and of the money which he could give them
later.

The peasant asked: "This pension of twelve hundred francs, will it be
promised before a notary?"

M. d'Hubieres responded: "Why, certainly, beginning with to-morrow."

The woman, who was thinking it over, continued:

"A hundred francs a month is not enough to deprive us of the child. That
child would be working in a few years; we must have a hundred and twenty
francs."

Stamping with impatience, Mme. d'Hubieres granted it at once, and as she
wished to carry off the child with her, she gave a hundred francs as a
present, while her husband drew up a writing. And the young woman,
radiant, carried off