ut down his wife's dowry; she inherited only
a part of her father's property. And, besides, as the trade of a miller
never enriched his father, Lepailleur curses his mill from morning till
night, and declares that he won't prevent his boy Antonin from going
to eat white bread in Paris, if he can find a good berth there when he
grows up."

Thus, even among the country folks, Mathieu found a small family
the rule. Among the causes were the fear of having to split up an
inheritance, the desire to rise in the social system, the disgust of
manual toil, and the thirst for the luxuries of town life. Since the
soil was becoming bankrupt, why indeed continue tilling it, when one
knew that one would never grow rich by doing so? Mathieu was on the
point of explaining these things to his wife, but he hesitated, and then
simply said: "Lepailleur does wrong to complain; he has two cows and a
horse, and when there is urgent work he can take an assistant. We, this
morning, had just thirty sous belonging to us, and we own no mill, no
scrap of land. For my part I think his mill superb; I envy him every
time I cross this bridge. Just fancy! we two being the millers--why, we
should be very rich and very happy!"

This made them both laugh, and for another moment they remained seated
there, watching the dark massive mill beside the Yeuse. Between the
willows and poplars on both banks the little river flowed on peacefully,
scarce murmuring as it coursed among the water plants which made it
ripple. Then, amid a clump of oaks, appeared the big shed sheltering
the wheel, and the other buildings garlanded with ivy, honeysuckle, and
creepers, the whole forming a spot of romantic prettiness. And at night,
especially when the mill slept, without a light at any of its windows,
there was nothing of more dreamy, more gentle charm.

"Why!" remarked Mathieu, lowering his voice, "there is somebody under
the willows, beside the water. I heard a slight noise."

"Yes, I know," replied Marianne with tender gayety. "It must be the
young couple who settled themselves in the little house yonder a
fortnight ago. You know whom I mean--Madame Angelin, that schoolmate of
Constance's."

The Angelins, who had become their neighbors, interested the Froments.
The wife was of the same age as Marianne, tall, dark, with fine hair
and fine eyes, radiant with continual joy, and fond of pleasure. And the
husband was of the same age as Mathieu, a handsome fellow, very muc