r after
without having any children. The pair might therefore become attached to
Agathe.

That young girl, the handsomest maiden in Issoudun, did not resemble
either father or mother. Her birth had caused a lasting breach between
Doctor Rouget and his intimate friend Monsieur Lousteau, a former
sub-delegate who had lately removed from the town. When a family
expatriates itself, the natives of a place as attractive as Issoudun
have a right to inquire into the reasons of so surprising a step. It was
said by certain sharp tongues that Doctor Rouget, a vindictive man, had
been heard to exclaim that Monsieur Lousteau should die by his hand.
Uttered by a physician, this declaration had the force of a cannon-ball.
When the National Assembly suppressed the sub-delegates, Lousteau
and his family left Issoudun, and never returned there. After their
departure Madame Rouget spent most of her time with the sister of the
late sub-delegate, Madame Hochon, who was the godmother of her daughter,
and the only person to whom she confided her griefs. The little that the
good town of Issoudun ever really knew of the beautiful Madame Rouget
was told by Madame Hochon,--though not until after the doctor's death.

The first words of Madame Rouget, when informed by her husband that
he meant to send Agathe to Paris, were: "I shall never see my daughter
again."

"And she was right," said the worthy Madame Hochon.

After this, the poor mother grew as yellow as a quince, and her
appearance did not contradict the tongues of those who declared that
Doctor Rouget was killing her by inches. The behavior of her booby of a
son must have added to the misery of the poor woman so unjustly accused.
Not restrained, possibly encouraged by his father, the young fellow, who
was in every way stupid, paid her neither the attentions nor the respect
which a son owes to a mother. Jean-Jacques Rouget was like his father,
especially on the latter's worst side; and the doctor at his best was
far from satisfactory, either morally or physically.

The arrival of the charming Agathe Rouget did not bring happiness to her
uncle Descoings; for in the same week (or rather, we should say decade,
for the Republic had then been proclaimed) he was imprisoned on a
hint from Robespierre given to Fouquier-Tinville. Descoings, who was
imprudent enough to think the famine fictitious, had the additional
folly, under the impression that opinions were free, to express that
opinion to