nstructions:
"See that my conditions are fully understood. I don't want to know
anything about any child. Do whatever you please, but never let me hear
another word of the matter."

That day was certainly one fertile in incidents, for in the evening
there was quite an alarm at the Beauchenes. At the moment when they were
about to sit down to dinner little Maurice fainted away and fell upon
the floor. Nearly a quarter of an hour elapsed before the child could
be revived, and meantime the distracted parents quarrelled and shouted,
accusing one another of having compelled the lad to go out walking that
morning in such cold, frosty weather. It was evidently that foolish
outing which had chilled him. At least, this was what they said to one
another by way of quieting their anxiety. Constance, while she held her
boy in her arms, pictured him as dead. It occurred to her for the first
time that she might possibly lose him. At this idea she experienced a
terrible heart-pang, and a feeling of motherliness came upon her, so
acute that it was like a revelation. The ambitious woman that was in
her, she who dreamt of royalty for that only son, the future princely
owner of the ever-growing family fortune, likewise suffered horribly. If
she was to lose that son she would have no child left. Why had she none
other? Was it not she who had willed it thus? At this thought a feeling
of desperate regret shot through her like a red-hot blade, burning
her cruelly to the very depths of her being. Maurice, however, at last
recovered consciousness, and even sat down to the table and ate with a
fair appetite. Then Beauchene immediately shrugged his shoulders, and
began to jest about the unreasoning fears of women. And as time went by
Constance herself ceased to think of the incident.

On the morrow, when Mathieu had to attend to the delicate mission which
he had undertaken, he remembered the two women of whom Celeste, the
maid, had spoken on the day of his visit to the Seguins. He at first
dismissed all idea of that Madame Rouche, of whom the girl had spoken
so strangely, but he thought of making some inquiries respecting Madame
Bourdieu, who accommodated boarders at the little house where she
resided in the Rue de Miromesnil. And he seemed to remember that this
woman had attended Madame Morange at the time of Reine's birth, a
circumstance which induced him to question the cashier.

At the very first words the latter seemed greatly disturbed. "Y