lously gifted woman would have
been a Madame Roland; born to the throne, she would have been a Catherine
II.; there was genius in her. Sprung from the lower ranks, her
superiority had given her wealth; had she come from the higher, the great
mind might have governed the world.

Still she was not happy; she had been married fifteen years, and her
fireside was devoid of a cradle. During the first years she had rejoiced
at not having a child. Where could she have found time to occupy herself
with a baby? Business engrossed her attention; she had no leisure to
amuse herself with trifles. Maternity seemed to her a luxury for rich
women; she had her fortune to make. In the struggle against the
difficulties attending the enterprise she had begun, she had not had time
to look around her and perceive that her home was lonely. She worked from
morning till night. Her whole life was absorbed in this work, and when
night came, overcome with fatigue, she fell asleep, her head filled with
cares which stifled all tricks of the imagination.

Michel grieved, but in silence; his feeble and dependent nature missed a
child. He, whose mind lacked occupation, thought of the future. He said
to himself that the day when the dreamt-of fortune came would be more
welcome if there were an heir to whom to leave it. What was the good of
being rich, if the money went to collateral relatives? There was his
nephew Savinien, a disagreeable urchin whom he looked on with
indifference; and he was biased regarding his brother, who had all but
failed several times in business, and to whose aid he had come to save
the honor of the name. The mistress had not hesitated to help him, and
had prevented the signature of "Desvarennes" being protested. She had not
taunted him, having as large a heart as she had a mind. But Michel had
felt humiliated to see his own folk make a gap in the financial edifice
erected so laboriously by his wife. Out of this had gradually sprung a
sense of dissatisfaction with the Desvarennes of the other branch, which
manifested itself by a marked coolness, when, by chance, his brother came
to the house, accompanied by his son Savinien.

And then the paternity of his brother made him secretly jealous. Why
should that incapable fellow, who succeeded in nothing, have a son? It
was only those ne'er-do-well sort of people who were thus favored. He,
Michel, already called the rich Desvarennes, he had not a son. Was it
just? But where is there