haps one may
come later, but since I cannot marry until I have something laid by, I
am destined to marry late in life and with an old man." "Then take an
old man without delay." "No. When I am no longer young, I shall not
care; for the present, it is different." "I see that I displease you,
Marie; that's clear enough," said Germain, impatiently, and without
stopping to weigh his words.

Little Marie did not answer. Germain bent over her. She was sleeping.
She had fallen back, overcome, stricken down, as it were, by slumber, as
children are who sleep before they cease to babble.

Germain was glad that she had not caught his last words. He felt that
they were unwise, and he turned his back to distract his attention and
change his thoughts.

It was all in vain. He could neither sleep nor think of anything except
the words he had just spoken. He walked about the fire twenty times; he
moved away; he came back. At last, feeling himself tremble as though he
had swallowed gunpowder, he leaned against the tree which sheltered the
two children, and watched them as they slept.

"I know not how it is," thought he; "I have never noticed that little
Marie is the prettiest girl in the countryside. She has not much color,
but her little face is fresh as a wild rose. What a charming mouth she
has, and how pretty her little nose is! She is not large for her age,
but she is formed like a little quail and is as light as a bird. I
cannot understand why they made so much fuss at home over a big, fat
woman with a bright red face. My wife was rather slender and pale, and
she pleased me more than any one else. This girl is very frail, but she
is healthy, and she is pretty to watch as a white kid. And then she has
such a gentle, frank expression. You can read her good heart in her eyes
even though they are closed in sleep. As to wit, I must confess she
has more than ever my dear Catherine had, and she would never become
wearisome. She is gay, wise, industrious, loving, and she is amusing. I
don't know what more I could wish for....

"But what is the use of thinking of all this?" Germain went on, trying
to look in another direction. "My father-in-law would not hear of it,
and all the family would think me mad! Besides, she would not have
me herself, poor child! She thinks me too old; she told me so. She is
unselfish, and does not mind poverty and worry, wearing old clothes, and
suffering from hunger for two or three months every year, so lon