her to be pressing her child to her bosom day and night;
instead of that, a peasant woman at Frejus nurses the child, and the
mother pines at Beaurepaire."

At this, Josephine leaned her face on her hands on the doctor's
shoulder. In this attitude she murmured to him, "I have never seen him
since I left Frejus." Dr. Aubertin sighed for her. Emboldened by this,
she announced her intention of going to Frejus the very next day to
see her little Henri. But to this Dr. Aubertin demurred. "What,
another journey to Frejus?" said he, "when the first has already roused
Edouard's suspicions; I can never consent to that."

Then Josephine surprised them both. She dropped her coaxing voice and
pecked the doctor like an irritated pigeon. "Take care," said she,
"don't be too cruel to me. You see I am obedient, resigned. I have given
up all I lived for: but if I am never to have my little boy's arms round
me to console me, then--why torment me any longer? Why not say to me,
'Josephine, you have offended Heaven; pray for pardon, and die'?"

Then the doctor was angry in his turn. "Oh, go then," said he, "go to
Frejus; you will have Edouard Riviere for a companion this time. Your
first visit roused his suspicions. So before you go tell your mother
all; for since she is sure to find it out, she had better hear it from
you than from another."

"Doctor, have pity on me," said Josephine.

"You have no heart," said Rose. "She shall see him though, in spite of
you."

"Oh, yes! he has a heart," said Josephine: "he is my best friend. He
will let me see my boy."

All this, and the tearful eyes and coaxing yet trembling voice, was
hard to resist. But Aubertin saw clearly, and stood firm. He put his
handkerchief to his eyes a moment: then took the pining young mother's
hand. "And, do you think," said he, "I do not pity you and love your
boy? Ah! he will never want a father whilst I live; and from this moment
he is under my care. I will go to see him; I will bring you news, and
all in good time; I will place him where you shall visit him without
imprudence; but, for the present, trust a wiser head than yours or
Rose's; and give me your sacred promise not to go to Frejus."

Weighed down by his good-sense and kindness, Josephine resisted no
longer in words. She just lifted her hands in despair and began to cry.
It was so piteous, Aubertin was ready to yield in turn, and consent to
any imprudence, when he met with an unexpected ally.

"Promis