ilk steamed
upon the table. The ground floor of the pavilion comprised a dining-room
and a drawing-room on the right of the hall, and a kitchen and a study
on the left. The dining-room, like the principal bedchamber, overlooked
the Rue de la Federation, and was filled every morning with cheerfulness
by the rising sun.

The children were already at table, with their noses in their cups, when
a ring at the street door was heard. And it was Dr. Boutan who came in.
His arrival brought a renewal of noisy mirth, for the youngsters were
fond of his round, good-natured face. He had attended them all at their
births, and treated them like an old friend, with whom familiarity is
allowable. And so they were already thrusting back their chairs to dart
towards the doctor, when a remark from their mother restrained them.

"Now, please just leave the doctor quiet," said she, adding gayly, "Good
morning, doctor. I'm much obliged to you for this bright sunshine, for
I'm sure you ordered it so that I might go for a walk this afternoon."

"Why, yes, of course I ordered it--I was passing this way, and thought I
would look in to see how you were getting on."

Boutan took a chair and seated himself near the table, while Mathieu
explained to him that they had remained late in bed.

"Yes, that is all right, let her rest: but she must also take as much
exercise as possible. However, there is no cause to worry. I see that
she has a good appetite. When I find my patients at table, I cease to be
a doctor, you know, I am simply a friend making a call."

Then he put a few questions, which the children, who were busy
breakfasting, did not hear. And afterwards there came a pause in the
conversation, which the doctor himself resumed, following, no doubt,
some train of thought which he did not explain: "I hear that you are to
lunch with the Seguins next Thursday," said he. "Ah! poor little woman!
That is a terrible affair of hers."

With a gesture he expressed his feelings concerning the drama that had
just upset the Seguins' household. Valentine, like Marianne, was to
become a mother. For her part she was in despair at it, and her husband
had given way to jealous fury. For a time, amid all their quarrels, they
had continued leading their usual life of pleasure, but she now spent
her days on a couch, while he neglected her and reverted to a bachelor's
life. It was a very painful story, but the doctor was in hopes that
Marianne, on the occasion of