t to combat; how happy they were when they
thought it vanquished! They were divinely recompensed when they saw the
cold sweats disappear, the moaning lips become stilled, the deathlike
faces recover animation. It was assuredly the love which they brought to
this humble, suffering humanity that produced the alleviation.

"To die is nothing; that is in the natural order of things," Pascal
would often say. "But why suffer? It is cruel and unnecessary!"

One afternoon the doctor was going with the young girl to the little
village of Sainte-Marthe to see a patient, and at the station, for they
were going by train, so as to spare Bonhomme, they had a reencounter.
The train which they were waiting for was from the Tulettes.
Sainte-Marthe was the first station in the opposite direction, going to
Marseilles. When the train arrived, they hurried on board and, opening
the door of a compartment which they thought empty, they saw old Mme.
Rougon about to leave it. She did not speak to them, but passing them
by, sprang down quickly in spite of her age, and walked away with a
stiff and haughty air.

"It is the 1st of July," said Clotilde when the train had started.
"Grandmother is returning from the Tulettes, after making her monthly
visit to Aunt Dide. Did you see the glance she cast at me?"

Pascal was at heart glad of the quarrel with his mother, which freed him
from the continual annoyance of her visits.

"Bah!" he said simply, "when people cannot agree it is better for them
not to see each other."

But the young girl remained troubled and thoughtful. After a few moments
she said in an undertone:

"I thought her changed--looking paler. And did you notice? she who is
usually so carefully dressed had only one glove on--a yellow glove, on
the right hand. I don't know why it was, but she made me feel sick at
heart."

Pascal, who was also disturbed, made a vague gesture. His mother would
no doubt grow old at last, like everybody else. But she was very active,
very full of fire still. She was thinking, he said, of bequeathing
her fortune to the town of Plassans, to build a house of refuge, which
should bear the name of Rougon. Both had recovered their gaiety when he
cried suddenly:

"Why, it is to-morrow that you and I are to go to the Tulettes to see
our patients. And you know that I promised to take Charles to Uncle
Macquart's."

Felicite was in fact returning from the Tulettes, where she went
regularly on the first of ev