and--the other day I almost lost my son," she
whispered with a shudder. "What would have become of me if he had died?"

The priest looked at her in bewilderment. "There, there; come to the
point," he said.

"I want to have another child," she repeated.

The abbe was used to the coarse pleasantries of the peasants, who did
not mind what they said before him, and he answered, with a sly smile
and a knowing shake of the head: "Well, I don't think there need be much
difficulty about that."

She raised her clear eyes to his and said, hesitatingly:

"But--but--don't you understand that since--since that trouble
with--the--maid--my husband and I live--quite apart."

These words came as a revelation to the priest, accustomed as he was to
the promiscuity and easy morals of the peasants. Then he thought he
could guess what the young wife really wanted, and he looked at her out
of the corner of his eye, pitying her, and sympathizing with her
distress.

"Yes, yes, I know exactly what you mean. I can quite understand that you
should find your--your widowhood hard to bear. You are young, healthy,
and it is only natural; very natural." He began to smile, his lively
nature getting the better of him. "Besides, the Church allows these
feelings, sometimes," he went on, gently tapping Jeanne's hands. "What
are we told? That carnal desires may be satisfied lawfully in wedlock
only. Well, you are married, are you not?"

She, in her turn, had not at first understood what his words implied,
but when his meaning dawned on her, her face became crimson, and her
eyes filled with tears.

"Oh! Monsieur le cure, what do you mean? What do you think? I assure
you--I assure--" and she could not continue for her sobs.

Her emotion surprised the abbe, and he tried to console her.

"There, there," he said; "I did not mean to pain you. I was only joking,
and there's no harm in a joke between honest people. But leave it all in
my hands, and I will speak to M. Julien."

She did not know what to say. She wished, now, that she could refuse his
help, for she feared his want of tact would only increase her
difficulties, but she did not dare say anything.

"Thank you, Monsieur le cure," she stammered; and then hurried away.

The next week was passed by Jeanne in an agony of doubts and fears. Then
one evening, Julien watched her all through dinner with an amused smile
on his lips, and evinced towards her a gallantry which was faintly
tinged with ir